


Lover

by SassenachSwiftie



Category: Lover - Taylor Swift (Album), Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon, Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feminist Themes, Fluff, Inspired by Music, Nonbinary Character, Post-Break Up, Secret Relationship, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26292277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassenachSwiftie/pseuds/SassenachSwiftie
Summary: Claire's reputation (and life as she knows it) is ruined after breaking up with Frank.  She continues to see Jamie in secret but is it too good to last?  Based on Taylor Swift's album "Lover" each chapter will tie in to a song and have lyrics woven throughout.  I do not own these lyrics, nor do I own any incidental Diana Gabaldon quotes that may also appear throughout.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp & Jamie Fraser, Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 253
Kudos: 178





	1. The Man

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written in probably 15 years! Thank you to those of you that have already shown support and encouragement before I've even begun. Earlier this summer I was listening to "Lover" at a time when I was indulging in quite a bit of fanfiction and rewatching Outlander. I couldn't help but imagine Jamie and Claire blisfully in love in New York city while listening to the lyrics. Thus, the idea for this fic was born. Later, when I was listening to Reputation, I realized many of those lyrics could also work for this story. I ended up mapping out chapters for both Reputation and Lover, so there will eventually be a prequel to this story! I will try to give enough exposition in the actual story that you do not need to read Reputation first (especially since you can't because it doesn't exist yet) but may occasionally give some background information in the notes if I can't weave it into the story. 
> 
> That being said, Claire and Frank had a pretty tumultous break up at the end of Reputation, and Claire went running straight to Jamie's arms. She's still hurting and has a lot of pieces to pick up, as well as figuring out what her priorties are.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short little chapter featuring Claire and her nonbinary best friend, Jo Abernathy (they/them) discussing the situation Claire's in over coffee.
> 
> "I'm so sick of running  
> As fast as I can  
> Wondering if I'd get there quicker  
> If I was a man..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be the first to admit I struggle with pronouns in writing. I blame a long history of learning subject/verb agreement that did not include a singular they throughout my schooling. Please forgive me and feel free to point out if I have made a mistake in this area. This fic is a great opprotunity for me to practice and get better.

****

Frank had taken everything from her and reaped none of the consequences. The stack of rejection letters on the counter was staring at her out of the corner of her eye, sprawled on top of a trashy tabloid featuring headlines about some supermodel with Leo in Saint-Tropez. She could feel the letters taunting her. She could feel _him_ taunting her. How was it possible that _every_ residency program in New York had rejected her? She knew Frank was a powerful man, but _damn._ Frank Randall was not a man you wanted to cross.

Graduation was three days away. Claire should have been celebrating; all her final exams were finished, papers turned in, and there was nothing left to do but reflect on what a waste it all was. She needed a distraction. She considered texting Jamie, but he was probably helping on his family farm--it was almost impossible to get a hold of him on weekdays. She decided to text Jo instead: “ _coffee?”_

_“Always. I can meet you in about a half hour”_

_“See you there”_

Jo Abernathy was Claire’s best friend and former roommate. Luckily, they had both ended up living on Long Island. Jo had gotten a job teaching Social Studies there before they even finished their master’s degree and lived in a funky little apartment above a bar in Northport Village. Claire was still “living the suburban dream” in the house her and Frank had bought together--the only thing he hadn’t taken from her. It was a bland, spacious, new build with perfect everything--it was a perfect nightmare is what it was. The walls were still unpainted, stark white, and cold. Most of the rooms weren’t furnished yet and the ones that were were lacking in decor. She wasn’t planning on moving out until she decided on a residency program, but that wasn’t an option anymore and she didn’t know what to do. What did he have to gain keeping her trapped in this prison when he wanted nothing to do with her? What was his end game? Did he really get such a thrill out of torturing her? _Fucking sadist._ Of course Frank was suffering exactly none of the fallout from the demise of their relationship. If anything, it garnered him sympathy and gave everyone an excuse to see him as human and love him all the more for it. _When everyone believes you, what’s that like?_ She shook her head, questioning how much of this she deserved for what she did. Claire grabbed her keys and headed out to meet Jo.

* * *

Jo was already seated with two lattes in front of them when Claire arrived at their favorite coffee shop, The Cozy Teacup. An expert at reading Claire’s glass face, they immediately asked “Ok, who do I need to stab?” upon her arrival. 

Claire couldn’t help but smirk at her dearest friend’s overprotective attitude. “I think you already know. I got my last rejection letter today”, her throat catching on the second sentence. She couldn’t continue any further. Luckily, Jo had a tendency to like the sound of their own voice and all but interrupted her.

“Oh Lady Jane, I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve that at all. Urgh, that _asshole!_ That _prick!_ That… _man._ ” Claire was glad the coffee shop was crowded at this lunch hour and no one seemed to notice her friend’s enthusiastic rant. "Why are men? You know, I think this is part of the reason why I’m nonbinary. I mean I don’t fully identify as a woman, but I _definitely_ can’t identify as a man. Men are _trash._ The _goddamn patriarchy._ I swear. You know. Frank or not, not _one_ of those school’s would’ve rejected you if you were a man.”

This was exactly what Claire needed from her friend, a pep-talk-slash-rant against the patriarchy. She loved it when Jo got fired up; it was honestly inspiring how they could always live their truth regardless of what everyone else thought. So unlike herself, whose life was constantly dictated by what everyone else thought of her. Jo made a compelling point too-- _if I were a man they’d say I played the field before I found someone to commit to, and that would be ok--every conquest I had made would make me more of a boss._ Jo’s inspiring speech was turning Claire’s sense of dejection into righteous anger directed not only at Frank, but the patriarchy as a whole.

“Yeah! I’m so _sick_ of running as fast as I can wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man!” she declared. Gosh Jo was a good hype-man, _hype-person_ , she mentally corrected herself. She had learned a lot about preferred pronouns in the years of knowing Jo, but she still got tripped up on certain colloquialisms--luckily Jo was always gracious even when she made these mistakes out loud. 

“Claire, if you were a man you’d be _the_ man, and as it stands you are _the_ woman, woah, man!”

Claire couldn’t help but giggle at her friend’s manner of speaking. They were always a little much, and usually it was just what Claire needed when she was down. Their knack for pointing to the larger societal issues at play helped her to keep grounded and to realize that she was not at fault. This particular case wasn’t dismissed so easily though; the shame she felt still gnawed at something deep within her. Even if it was the patriarchy’s fault, it was her fault too.

“This is really bothering you, huh LJ?” Claire nodded sheepishly. _D_ _amn my glass face._ “I’m so sick of him coming at me again.”

“It’s ok to be mad,” Jo affirmed, reaching over to stroke Claire’s forearm in an attempt to bring some comfort. “So, what are we going to do about it? Let’s brainstorm the next move. What is it you really want, Claire?”

Over the next hour and a half, Jo helped Claire untangle what she really wanted: to prove everyone wrong. For everyone to say she’d hustled and put in the work. This was decided amid quips from Jo about how easy it was for men to get these things: “They’re painting you out to be bad--for men it’s all good if you're bad”, “If you were out flashing your dollars you’d be a bitch not a baller.” They determined that Claire would spend the next year padding her resume, not only working her job as a school nurse, but volunteering in hospitals and clinics as well as any other community service projects that came her way. When the time came, she would apply to all the best residency programs in the country. Without Frank tying her down in New York, she could go anywhere. She tried to push out the little voice in her head that kept whispering, ‘ _What about Jamie?’_ as she dreamed about being a strong, independent woman at the top of her game. Not one half of a power couple--just Claire: complex, cool, fearless Claire full of good ideas and power moves. They would toast to her successes, not the rock on her finger. She knew she could do it. Frank may have placed success just out of her reach, but she knew where to get a step ladder.


	2. You Need To Calm Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not only inspired by "You Need to Calm Down" but also by "The Reckoning" any quotes borrowed from either of these works belong to their respective author whom I am indebted to and admire greatly.
> 
> "And I ain't tryna mess with your self-expression  
> But I've learned a lesson that stressin' and obsessin' 'bout somebody else is no fun  
> And snakes and stones never broke my bones..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is here! It's time for Claire and Jamie's first fight but that also it's time for their first make-up sex. This is my first time writing Smut but [Janmarie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janmarie) assures me I did a good job. If that's really not your thing (I mean you are reading OL fanfic so it probably is), it's all the big paragraph near the end and the two dialogue paragraphs after you can easily skip to the last 3 dialogue paragraphs without losing the plot. Big thanks to everyone following along on this journey and all the kudos and comments on the last chapter.
> 
> Also, I’m on Twitter now @sassenachswifty.
> 
> Thirdly, there was a short lived comment about Jo's pronouns on my last chapter. I genuinely think the commenter realized their mistake and deleted it before I had a chance to respond--which is fine and good, heaven knows I've made mistakes with pronouns and felt weird and caught of guard about them and all of that. Basically they were saying the they/them pronons were not grammatically correct and were distracting to the reader. I get that, I totally do, it feels uncomfortable because we were never taught about the singular they in school and it looks/sounds weird if you're not used to it. However, the sigular they has been recognized by APA, MLA and I believe Chicago style and is, therefore grammatically correct. It's something I'm getting used to as a writer and it's something we can try to get used to as readers as we move forward into a more progressive society. Our grandkids are going to make fun of us someday for struggling with pronouns. I just wanted to say it's ok to struggle, it's not ok to dismiss (which I genuinely believe the commenter was not doing). Jo came to me as a nonbinary character, and while it is a good exercise in pronoun usage for me as an author, that is not their primary function in the story, they are there to be Claire’s friend first and foremost. They/them are Jo's pronouns and I cannot and will not call them anything else because that would be disrespectful to them. My only other option would be to use "Jo" in every instance where he/she/her/him would come up which would be annoying, repetative and frankly, bad writing. Thank you for coming to my TED talk, now on with the show!

Claire awoke in Jamie’s bed early on Saturday morning. It was graduation day, but she was definitely not walking the stage. Still laying on her side, she picked up her phone off the nightstand and began mindlessly scrolling Facebook, stopping at a collection of photos from an end of semester happy hour the night before. Frank was there as well as several of their mutual friends. Were they still friends? Probably not anymore, who knows if they ever were. Claire tapped from the photos posted by Gillian to the tag that took her to Frank’s profile. She scrolled down his feed to see if there were any new updates. Other than the pictures, it was the same barely cryptic statuses that were clearly throwing shade her way to anyone that knew.  _ In a tweet? That’s a cop-out.  _ _ Taking  _ _ shots at me like it's Patrón,  _ she mused to herself, recalling the pictures from the night before. Claire began swiping through Frank’s photos going back further and further. Her and Frank in front of the house with the “sold” sign in the yard. A candid picture she took of Frank in a coffee shop one day. Brilliant, smiling faces of them and their friends all dressed up at their New Year’s Eve party--many of the people pictured in the photos from last night. Frank proudly standing with his arm around her, Claire beaming and angling her hand just so a few days after they got engaged. Claire was so engrossed in these images she didn’t realize Jamie had awoken behind her. He leaned over to plant a kiss on that spot just behind her ear, pausing when he saw what she was looking at, “Damn Sassenach, it’s seven AM for Chrissakes” he hissed.

Claire’s face flushed immediately. She had been caught. She didn’t even know why she was doing what she was doing, but she felt ashamed, defensive, embarrassed, and justified all at once. She swiped out of her Facebook app instantly but it was too late. He had seen and the damage had been done. She couldn’t speak, she didn’t have any good excuses, and she definitely couldn’t turn to look at Jamie. She set the phone back down on the nightstand and burrowed her curly head under the pillow trying to avoid his gaze. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew Jamie was watching her intently waiting for an explanation.

“Hey, are you ok? I dinna mean to snap at ye Claire, It’s just early and I dinna expect to see ye looking at pictures of your ex after what I thought was such a satisfying night. Am I not good enough for ye Claire?” His tone started gentle and caring, but his veins were pulsing with jealous rage and his voice got more angry and frantic as he continued. “Look at me, Claire!”

Claire didn’t like being told what to do, especially not with the newfound feminist energy Jo had ignited in her. She hoisted herself out from her cocoon, and sprang up to face him. “I don’t have to do what you tell me to. You need, to calm down, you’re being too loud!”

He made a distinctly Scottish noise--“Hmpph. That’s not what ye said last night Sassenach” he growled. He couldn’t help flirting with her even in his anger. She looked so bonny, bare-breasted with her curls splayed every which way, the fire of her anger alight in her whiskey eyes--frightening and sexy at the same time.

Claire wasn’t amused by his quip, or by the tone of voice in which he said it, “you need to just stop, like can you just not? I don’t like it one bit!”

“Not _ what,  _ Claire? Not want ye only for myself? Not feel jealous seeing pictures of that rat bastard with his smug grin and his arm around ye to be the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning? You do belong to me, whether ye like it or not. Why are  _ you  _ mad? I’m the only one allowed to be mad, Claire! Yer mine, damn ye Claire! Mine, and I wilna share ye, with a man or a memory or anything whatsoever”

Her glass face broke before his eyes as he raised his voice louder. Her anger had turned to something fragile, something Jamie was afraid he would break. Even still, she spoke softly, but confidently, “I don’t belong to you or anyone, I’m my own person. You need to just take several seats” She glanced away from him, trying to keep her composure. 

Controlling his urge to scream, he replied “I know that, that’s not what I meant. I ain’t trying to mess with who you are or your self expression, I mean that I am yours just as much as you are mine”

_ Damn, he’s good _ , thought Claire as she met his gaze again. His passion, even when directed towards anger, was still sexy. 

“Claire, I see you over there on the internet all the time, this isn’t the first time you’ve done this is it?”

She nodded in agreement, embarrassed, but somehow she felt safe admitting it to Jamie. She was beginning to realize just how much he truly cared about her. As strange as it seemed, through this small fight, their relationship was moving from simply mutual, passionate attraction to something deeper. It might have been there all along beyond the urges of the flesh, but she was just now truly seeing it. It was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. 

“Listen, I’ve learned a lesson that stressing and obsessing about somebody else is no fun.” Jamie disclosed, trying to restore the peace. “He’s not worth your time if he let a girl like you go on the drop of a hat like that.” This made Claire wince internally, hoping he didn’t see, there was more to it than that. He didn’t seem to notice and continued, “What we have is like sunshine, but you act like you would rather be in the dark.” He reached for her arm, caressing it gently. 

“You’ve figured me out. You’re right, I don’t know why I keep checking on him. I guess I’m hoping I’ll find out something horrible has happened to him; but I promise, only you have me.”

“I mean to have you Claire, I am your master and you are mine. It seems I cannot possess your soul without losing my own.” Both of Jamie’s hands were on Claire’s arms now, gripping her more firmly now. They were drawing closer to each other, the passion of their anger still surging in their veins. “I want you Claire, I want you so much I can scarcely breathe. Will you have me?” 

“Yes.”

Their lips met with a fervour unlike any they had experienced before, hands caressing everywhere. Claire moaned into Jamie’s mouth as his hand cupped her breast, stroking her nipple vigorously with his palm. His lips moved to her neck, that spot behind her ear that made her giggle and squeak. He was ravenous, consuming her flesh with his lips, making his way down to her other breast, sucking her nipple as he ran his tongue around it, willing all sorts of noises to emit from her mouth. She was straddling him, grinding against him, feeling his wanting against her in just the right spot. She thrust her hands into his boxer briefs, tugging at his hips to bring them even closer. He responded in kind, slipping his hands into the lace waistband her cotton panties and grabbing that arse he loved so much. He moved one hand around to her front and started stroking her most sensitive area and slipped a finger inside her. “Oh, Jamie” she moaned as she began to ease his waistband down. She allowed herself to let him go for a moment, releasing him to remove his underwear, as she did the same. As soon as they were fully exposed to one another, she was on top of him again. She moved herself up and down his length, feeling him rub against her, igniting a euphoric sensation in her core. When neither of them could take it anymore he slipped inside her, and she took him in to the hilt, riding him almost violently. All the anger and shame she had felt moments ago had transformed into a primal lust unleashed on him. He responded in kind, kissing her vigorously across breasts, neck and shoulders until she shoved him back on the bed to gain a better angle. Pushing her hand to his chest for leverage, she rode him harder than she’d ever ridden anyone before--not even the vibrator she used to experiment with in college. She could see he was close, his face contorting as he resisted the urge to finish before her. 

“Sassenach, you’ll be the death of me” he groaned.

“Just a little more, Jamie” she panted, just before crying out, “Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh”. Seeing her satisfied, he allowed himself to finish as well. Claire gently detached from him and collapsed beside him, breathless, resting on his chest, hair sprawled across him.

“Oh Sassenach, ye keep that up and I’m liable to pick fights with you more often” he sighed.

“You better watch out before you start something you can’t finish” she quipped in response. 

Jamie simply made a Scottish noise in reply, staring at the ceiling stroking her hair, wondering if he had, in fact, done just that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to slip in as many lyrics from each song as possible and make it still "work", occasionally changing tenses or adding/subtracting words to make them work. Claire's orgasm moans are the "oh oh's" in the chorus of YNTCD and I'm simultaneously proud of myself and ashamed.


	3. Cruel Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our "lovers" have reason to keep their blossoming relationship a secret, but that doesn't mean they can't go on a proper date, right? What will happen to our flirty couple when Claire has a few two many whiskeys loosening her emotions (and her lips?).
> 
> "Said, 'I'm fine', but it wasn't true  
> I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you  
> And I, snuck in through the garden gate  
> Every night that summer just to seal my fate..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your kudos and comments!! Feel free to follow me on Twitter! (@SassenachSwifty). It's mostly writing/Outlander/Taylor Swift related content, and I occasionally post cryptic updates about what I'm writing. Also, I have no idea why some paragraphs are indented and others are not, or how to fix it. I haven't worked with HTML since my Myspace days. If anyone has any advice feel free to reach out to me.

The end of May passed into the heat of June and July and eventually into August while Claire and Jamie continued to live blissfully in their breakable heaven. The end of June brought the end of school, which meant Claire’s summer furlough from being a school nurse and plenty of free time to spend with Jamie. Unfortunately, Jamie spent much of the long summer days working on his family’s farms, but the nights were theirs. Claire spent most of her days sleeping and most of her nights sneaking out to see Jamie. She often left late to avoid the ever watchful eye of her next-door neighbor Laoghaire. Laoghaire was recently divorced and had been on a couple of dates with Jamie earlier that year. Claire was thankful for that, because she may have never met Jamie otherwise, but Laoghaire was the neighborhood busybody and would be more than interested to know about their blooming relationship. 

Jamie had agreed to keep their relationship a secret until Claire was ready. He understood why she would want to keep things under wraps. Frank had so recently broken off their engagement, it wouldn’t have been tactful to rush into something new so quickly. People were bound to talk, especially in their sorts of circles. No, it was better kept in the quiet of the night. However, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, inside and out and it was killing him slowly not to shout it from the rooftops. _I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you._ In spite of the fact that they always texted prior to their late night rendezvous, he found himself staring out the window of his apartment above his sister’s detached garage. Even on nights they didn’t have plans, he’d find himself at the window always waiting for her to be waiting below. They’d never even been able to have a proper date. He decided he needed to remedy that. He pulled out his phone to Google the perfect place. After some time, he located an establishment, but he found he was nervous to ask her. He felt like a school boy asking his date to prom. _Devil’s roll the dice, angels roll their eyes,_ he mused, texting Claire: “ _Sassenach, I ken we’re trying to keep this thing we have under wraps, but I wanna take ya on a proper date. I found a wee pub on the other side of the island where I think we’ll be safe. I thought we could get a room for the night since it’s so far out. What d’ya think?”_

_“Really? I’d love to”_

_“Pick you up at 10?”_

_“Cut the headlights when you turn onto my street, and don’t park in the driveway, I’ll sneak out through the garden gate and meet you at the curb.”_

_“Curbside service coming to ya at 10 o’clock sharp madame.”_

_“:) can’t wait”_

\----------

“The World’s End” in Montauk was a bit of a dive bar, but clean, and had an old-world charm akin to the pubs of the British Isles. Claire could see why Jamie chose this place. As a bonus, it definitely was not the kind of place Frank and the NYU crowd would frequent, which made Claire feel at ease. There were more than several groups of locals there, but it was by no means packed as Jamie and Claire made their way to the bar. In the glow of an old fashioned cigarette vending machine, Jamie hung his head towards Claire “I’m sorry it’s not a nicer place Sassenach, if I could I’d take you to a nice restaurant, but there’s only so many places that are open at this hour, ya ken?”

“It’s cool. I like it. We can just be us here.” she assured him. He looked up, grinning like the devil at her response.

Jamie ordered them whiskeys, citing his expertise as a Scotsman to get the best kind.

“Well aren’t you fancy?” quipped Claire.

“You know that I bought it” he replied in sarcastic arrogance. 

They found a cozy booth and sat on the same side, like any new couple so infatuated with each other they had to always be touching. The shape of their body’s fitting together just right. Jamie was in a fever dream high just from being in such close proximity to her in public. He was finally free to flirt with her in public, there were no rules here about keeping distance or pretending not to notice each other across the room. They were simply Jamie and Claire, Claire and Jamie. He put his arm around her pulling her close and kissing her curls. “I’m so happy to be with you like this, Sassenach.”

“Me too.” she replied, looking up at him with those whisky eyes, “I know it’s a cruel summer for you, but--”

“I understand, I’m not dying.” he interjected, “besides, what doesn’t kill me makes me want you more”

“Oh is that so? Take me out in public and you already can’t wait to get me in private” she quipped, barely stifling a flirtatious giggle.

“Who says we have to be in private” he insinuated, raising an eyebrow before kissing her behind the ear.

“Jamie! You bad bad boy!” she shrieked, giggling uncontrollably. They were both several whiskeys in and Claire, who was not used to hard liquor was a bit more than tipsy.

Jamie pulled out his phone, making it obvious to Claire that he was opening the Uber app, “Perhaps, it’s time we get out of here, if ye want”

“Oh yeah, you’re right I want it” she purred in his ear.

\----------

Claire had caught it--feelings, fever, perhaps love? Whatever you wanted to call it, she had it bad for Jamie. Even in her whiskey-induced fog, she knew she was getting in too deep. _Damn_ t _his feeling I’ve got_ she thought to herself _._ This wasn’t just a summer fling anymore. Suddenly, summer felt like a knife waiting to cut her to the bone. How could she live without him after he went back home? It wasn’t supposed to be like this, they weren’t supposed to discuss things like _feelings_ and _distance_ , certainly not the “L” word. It seemed she had sealed her fate by spending so much time sneaking around with him. Between the whisky and her feelings Claire’s head was swirling in the back of the Uber. Her glass face revealed something was awry to Jamie, concerned he asked “Claire, is something amiss?” Determined not to screw it up in these trying times, Claire decided not to tell him how she felt. _If I bleed you’ll be the last to know._

She said “I’m fine” but it wasn’t true and tears filled her eyes. The next thing she knew she was crying like a baby into Jamie’s chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

“Dinna fash mo chride, much, mo naoidheachan, much” he soothed. Claire didn’t understand a word he was saying, but it helped assuage her tears. He hoped now that she was settled down he could learn the truth of what was bothering her. “Claire, mo chride, what is it? You can tell me, it’s ok”

She felt so safe there in his arms, so able to be vulnerable that she suddenly couldn’t help but pour her heart out to him. In a voice louder than it needed to be in the back of the Uber, Claire exclaimed, “For whatever it’s worth, I love you. Ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger like that, I have finished the next chapter and will post next Friday, so you won't have to wait too long for Jamie's response. In my defense, Claire was *supposed to* keep that lyric in her own head, but she went full Taylor on me in the back of the Uber so here we are. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	4. The Archer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We left off with drunken Claire shouting "I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?" in the back of an Uber. Jamie reacts to Claire's news. Both Jamie and Claire have late night thoughts about their relationship.
> 
> "Combat, I'm ready for combat  
> I say I don't want that, but what if I do?  
> 'Cause cruelty wins in the movies  
> I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more introspective than usual, we're really getting into the characters heads to set up for what will happen next. 
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments on the last chapter, I really value the support as a newbie to this fandom and fic writing in general. 
> 
> Follow me on Twitter or Tumblr for updates, Moodboard reveals and previews. Twitter: @sassenachswifty Tumblr: TheSassenachSwiftie

His heart was fit to burst hearing those words escape her beautiful lips. “Oh God. Oh _Claire._ Quite the opposite, mo chirde.” Jamie was holding her so tightly to his chest as if she were the most precious thing in the world--and to him, she was. He kissed her head softly. “Claire, that’s wonderful to hear mo nighean donn. I’ve loved you nearly as long as I’ve known you, mo chirde.” 

Their Uber arrived at their hotel moments later. Jamie allowed himself to let go of his love in order to awkwardly disembark from the Uber. He had a moment of pity for the Uber driver and made a mental note to over tip him--but that was vastly overshadowed by the warm feeling in his heart that spread through his whole body. He slipped his arm back around her and drew her close as they entered the hotel and checked in. 

A small part of Claire felt she should disclose to Jamie that their relationship was doomed, but the whiskey flowing through her was making her feel warm and blissful wrapped in his arms--wrapped in their mutual love, she couldn’t bring herself to do it that night. _Help me hold onto you,_ she prayed, casting out any thoughts of the past or the future. Here and now there was only her and Jamie, _and they were in love_.

They fell into bed together in a blur of passion and whiskey. The room was on fire. Jamie poured his newly confessed love into her--mind, body, and soul--and she responded in kind. Gentle kisses and caresses, brushes of lips on flesh, hands clasped in the heat of the moment--they savored each other as if time didn’t exist and they could live wrapped in the soft hotel duvet for eternity. Once their passion was spent, Claire quickly succumbed to the final effect of the whiskey, falling asleep nestled in Jamie’s arms, cheek resting on his strong torso. Jamie lied awake, softly stroking her hair, too thrilled to sleep. 

Jamie had never felt this way before about anyone. He’d dated other women, made love to them, even thought he’d loved them, but he’d always ended up breaking it off. He humbly knew he was attractive to most women--especially in The States where his accent gave him an added exotic charm, but he always felt like they just wanted him as a status symbol--someone who looked good in their Instagram pictures, someone that they could gush over with their friends. _Easy they come, easy they go--but not her._ Claire had a knack for letting him know he was attractive without making him feel objectified. Claire saw him for him, it was like she could see right through him, down to the core of his being. Everything with her felt natural, like he had been born to love and serve her. He’d been worried it was too good to be true. A woman had certainly never wanted to hide him away to herself before and he didn’t know what to think of that. He’d understood her reasons from a rational standpoint, but there was a gnawing, doubting fear in the back of his mind that it was because she didn’t really care for him enough to let her friends know. _Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay._ Jamie had always been the archer in the relationship, the one who brought the fatal blow to end things before they went too far, but with Claire he knew he was the prey. He was completely vulnerable to her and whatever she wanted to do to him. In those foggy moments between consciousness before sleep finally took him with her he thought to himself, _if you ever left all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put me together again._

\----------

Claire woke in the night--she had always had trouble sleeping late in an unfamiliar bed and the knot in her stomach wasn’t helping. She had a plan for her future, and it didn’t involve falling in love with a Scotsman who lived clear across the ocean for most of the year. She wasn’t used to facing relational problems head-on, she much preferred to ride off alone and avoid conflict. That was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place, wasn’t it? If she had been closer to home she would have left him a note and left without a trace. She had to end it though--they were in deeper than she wanted to be and she didn’t need any distractions at this critical time in her life. If she wanted to rebuild her life, her career, herself as an independent woman out of the rubble Frank had left her in she needed to be clear-headed and focus, not some lovesick teenage girl. _I say I don’t want that--but what if I do?_

She paced like a ghost in predawn hours, going over a hundred thrown-out speeches in her head. The room felt like it was filled with invisible smoke. Why did she have to tell him she loved him last night? _Damn the whiskey, fucking Scottish truth serum._ She realized she would have to tell him in the car, otherwise it would be a very awkward drive home--if he was even willing to drive her home at that point. She tried to imagine how he would react, convincing herself he would turn nasty and irrational like Frank would. She searched for his dark side, lying to herself that he wouldn’t take it well and she would be justified. Cruelty wins in the movies, maybe it would create just the right amount of drama she would need to unleash his inner darkness and allow her to let him go. 

She laid back down in bed beside him so as not to prematurely cause alarm, she had to set her glass face and pretend everything was normal. She couldn’t help thinking _what if I’m alright, right, right, right here?_ She faced away from him as light began to creep into the room, waiting for him to awake, trying not to think of how painful her life was about to become. It was bad enough that all of her enemies started out friends, her potential career was in shambles, and now she was about to let go of one of the only things that made sense. She knew she couldn’t keep him though. She knew what she wanted and she’d be cutting off her nose just to spite her face--then, she’d hate her reflection for years and years. No, she had to do this now, like tearing off a band-aid. It would hurt like hell, but in the end she had to focus on what was best for her, she couldn’t give up on her dreams, she couldn’t let Frank win. As she heard Jamie start to stir behind her she steeled herself for a morning of pretending everything was fine, draping herself in an emotional armor that would have to sustain her for the next few hours. _Combat, I’m ready for combat._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry for the angst!


	5. False God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire has made up her mind to end things with Jamie. How will he react when she makes a confession to him?
> 
> "I know heaven's a thing  
> I go there when you touch me, honey  
> Hell is when I fight with you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for following along on this journey. We left off in a pretty angsty spot and the angst is going to continue for a bit here.
> 
> Remember to follow me on Tumblr (thesassenachswiftie) and/or Twitter (sassenachswifty) for moodboard and text previews throughout the week. New chapters drop on Fridays.

****

Claire managed to somewhat keep it together all morning as they picked up their discarded clothes scattered about the room, grabbed a quick breakfast and got on the road. Jamie, of course, noticed the look on her face shortly after waking. When he inquired, she blamed a hangover (which wasn’t entirely a lie) and assured him she would be fine. She would not be fine, and neither would he, she suspected. He seemed so chipper, so alive, like he was ready to conquer the world. She knew she was a terrible person to do this to him, but if she didn’t do it now it would be so much worse for the both of them later. She decided to tell him when they were about a half hour from her house. That way, if he left her on the side of the road--which she wouldn’t blame him for--she’d be close enough to call Jo to come pick her up. She had made sure her phone was charged the night before if that was to be the case.

For the first stretch of her trip, she remained quiet, still blaming the hangover and staring out the window as Jamie talked about Scotland and England and all the places he’d love to take her and people he wanted to introduce her to there. She tuned out most of what he was saying. She couldn’t bear dreaming with him, and needing to mentally rehearse what she would say when the time came. She watched the road ahead of her, trying to focus on the movement of the car instead of the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Eventually, the time came--she couldn’t put it off any longer.

“Jamie, we were crazy to think that this could work” she blurted out, more abruptly than she had intended.

“I know Claire, but we might just get away with this, it’s going great so far--”

“No Jamie, I mean, this isn’t going to work. We can’t keep seeing each other like this, and what’s going to happen when you leave?”

“Have you not been listening to me for the past hour? Remember how I said I’d fly ta ya? What are you doing Claire?”

“We were stupid to jump in with an ocean separating us. We can’t just fly back and forth whenever we feel like it. It’s not realistic. We’re living in a fantasy world, Jamie. We’re living in a dream and it’s time to wake up to reality.”

“Claire, I--”

“No, let me finish. I know I’ve had a setback in my career, but I still want to be a doctor. I’m not going to be able to spend any time with you when I do eventually start my residency, whether you fly here or not. It’s not fair to you or me. It’s not fair to you that I keep you away from your family. It’s not fair to you that you have to sneak around and lose sleep on my account. I’m doing this for you, believe it or not.”

Jamie’s hands gripped the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white, his jaw tightened and his face felt hot as something within him broke. “Claire, how could ye possibly be doing this for me when it isna what I want at all?” He reached for her, knowing it would be easier to talk to her if they touched.

Claire stared out the passenger window, arms crossed across her chest, shrinking herself as far away as she could. “Don’t touch me.” she hissed. She knew she couldn’t do this if they touched, she’d be lost in him again, it was taking all her resolve to say her piece.

Jamie, ever the gentlemen, knew even something as small as a touch on the shoulder was something that needed consent, and reluctantly put his hand back on the steering wheel. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, staring out the window like I’m not your favorite. God dammit Claire, it’s _hell_ when I fight with you.” He felt so frustrated, he couldn’t understand how less than twenty-four hours ago she confessed her love to him and now she was doing this. “This canna possibly be what you really want. We belong together, we were meant to meet Claire, we were meant to be together. Ya really wanna leave? Go ahead, try and leave me, try and tell me honestly that’s what you really want.” He thought if he could scare her maybe she’d come to her senses and change her mind.

The tears were flowing freely from Claire's eyes now. “Yes.” she said quietly. “Jamie, I’m New York City, you’re the English countryside, we don’t belong together, we don’t fit together. If this was meant to be we’d be on the same path, and we’re just not.”

 _You’re not New York City, you’re my Sassenach, you don’t belong to any place, that’s what I love about you, you just belong with me._ Jamie thought to himself. “Claire, I can’t let you go that easy. I love you so much, I’d die for you Claire. If you want me to fly to you every week, I will, I swear to it, tell me what to do Claire.”

Claire’s resolve was weakening, he wasn’t supposed to keep loving her, to keep worshipping her as if she were worthy of his love. She only had one thing left to say, the confession she hoped she wouldn’t have to share. The last thing she wanted to ever tell him, but the thing that might finally make him leave. “I’m not what you think I am Jamie. I lied to you!”

“What are you talking about?”

“That first night we were together, I told you Frank broke up with me… he didn’t. I didn’t even talk to him. I used you. I wanted you, I wanted to piss Frank off--I was bored and lonely and horny and I lied to you to get my way. That’s the type of person I am, I’m not this wonderful person you’ve made me out to be.”

All he could do in reply was grunt a Scottish noise of disapproval. Her confession ignited a livid fire in him, he didn’t know what to feel or how to respond. He would never have consented to sleeping with her that night knowing she still belonged to Frank. God, she was _engaged_ to him for heaven’s sake. How could she let him do that, knowing how he felt about the situation. He had been under her spell, completely captivated by her, and he didn’t know if he fully regretted it. The final minutes of their car ride continued in heated silence. The air in the car was thick with something that felt like it would ignite and burn up fast if either of them uttered a word. 

Jamie dropped Claire off at the end of her street as she had requested earlier, she grabbed her weekender bag from the backseat and softly said “Goodbye, Jamie” before shutting the door, not daring herself to look at him as she did. She walked to her house as quickly as she could and collapsed to the ground sobbing as soon as she was inside her door. She knew it was for the best, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

\----------

Jamie drove away from her, glancing one last time at her figure in the rearview mirror in spite of himself. He felt betrayed, upset, confused and aimless. Above all, he felt heartbroken. They had warned him about times like these--his father, his Godfather, even his brother-in-law. “When you fall in love”, they said, “the road gets hard and you get lost in it” and Jamie was just now figuring out what they meant. He had been following her with blind faith, doing anything she asked without a thought, sneaking around--even allowing her to cheat with him, albeit unknowingly. He was still too eager, too willing. How could he forgive himself for that? How could he allow a woman to consume him so deeply, body, mind and soul? Worst of all, who was he without her, now that she had walked away?

He found himself pulling into the parking lot of a Catholic church. He didn’t attend weekly anymore, nor did his family. “ _The Lord kens how difficult it is ta get seven bairns dressed and ready for church and the Lord kens how much we love him_.” his sister Jenny would say. He knew he didn’t need the church building to love and worship God. He also recognized that the Roman Catholic Church was as flawed and marred by sin as the worst sinner, but he still found something comforting and spiritual about visiting. Something about the waxy smell of candles and the glow the stained glass cast on the cold marble interior, made him feel like he was connected to something ancient and holy, something bigger than himself--and in this moment he needed something bigger than himself to help him make sense of this situation. He dipped his hand in the font and crossed himself as he entered, strode to the pews, and genuflected before taking a seat in the middle of the empty church. He rested his forehead on his clasped hands, elbows resting on the back of the pew in front of him, ready to speak to the only one who could listen. The one who knew him best and could help him sort through all the raw emotions that weighed so heavily on him in this moment.

He allowed the tears he’d been holding back to flow freely as he prayed: _Lord, please have mercy on my soul for I am a sinner. I thought that you had made her for me, I selfishly thought that we were meant to be together. I tried to be good, I tried to respect and honor her. With her I knew heaven was a thing, I went there when I touched her. Lord, I confess I coveted my neighbor’s wife--well, fiancée if we’re being technical about it--but you of course know these things. I beg you for forgiveness for that, and I’m afraid I am guilty of a bit more than just coveting. Please forgive me for the sins I did not know I was committing. Lord, if you did not make her for me, please, please, take my desire for her from me, I beg of you. I fear even if she is a false god that I am still sorely tempted to worship this love. However, Lord, if you did in fact make her for me, and me for her, as I believe you are good enough to do, please Lord, bring her back to me. Heal her wounds and bring her back to me, I swear to you I’ll care for her, honor her and never let her leave me again. I’ll do whatever it takes Lord, please, just free me from this pain I feel. It’s too much to bear without her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!!


	6. Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a month since Jamie and Claire's emotional parting. What happens when they run into each other, at a high school football game of all places?
> 
> "We're so sad, we paint the town blue  
> Voted most likely to run away  
> With you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and commenting! I know the last chapter was painful. Angst just makes everything else so much sweeter, right? We left our lovers in a pretty dark place, and a month later their emotional states are not much improved (I wonder why?). This is the very first chapter I wrote and still my favorite chapter so far, I hope you like it!

The late September air kissed Claire’s cheeks bringing a lively flush to her face as she wrapped her blue and yellow fleece blanket tighter around her shoulders. It was Friday night and the homecoming game was in full swing. She had chosen a spot in the upper corner of the bleachers where the crowd was thinner. Being the school nurse, Claire was a member of the school faculty, and expected to be present for at least one of the weekend’s festivities. It was much better to be a little cold at the game then chaperoning the dance the following evening. No thank you, she did not need to see her beloved students grinding against each other like animals. 

Claire would never forget the first time she chaperoned a school dance and saw Mary Hawkins attached at the mouth to some gangly, acne-ridden boy on the dance floor. Sweet, innocent Mary Hawkins, a stammering girl who visited her office at least twice a week for her inhaler when an anxiety attack caused her asthma to flare up. Who knew she could hold her breath for that long? Claire had just stood there on the sidelines, revolted but unable to look away. Eventually, Jo noticed and stepped in “No PDA at School functions!! Don’t make me call your parents, Alex” The mortified couple simultaneously turned a shade of red Claire wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before and separated as if they were spring-loaded. “Boys will be boys then, but where are the wise men?” was Jo’s aside as they returned to Claire’s side. 

Claire wished Jo was here now, but unfortunately they had a weekly D&D commitment on Friday nights that simply could not be missed. She didn’t really wish Jo was there, she wished _somebody_ was there. Someone that could warm not only her chilled body, but her chilled heart. She tried to conjure up Frank in her mind, his arm around her, explaining the nuances of the game, but she had to admit to herself that Frank wasn’t the one who could warm her to the core. That's what got her into this mess in the first place though. _You play stupid games you win stupid prizes_ , she thought to herself. She tried to shake the thoughts from her head and focus on the game, hoping the cold would numb her heart the way it numbed her nose. It would be easier if she understood American football, her very-English-indeed father had never enjoyed the sport the way her friends’ fathers did growing up, and Uncle Lamb had certainly never taken an interest in it. All she really knew is that the Wildcats were losing and the crowd around her was starting to look dejected. As she scanned their faces her eyes caught on russet curls in the bleachers below her, several rows down in the center was Jamie. Even from the back he was unmistakably recognizable, his large frame filling out the sherpa lined jacket he was wearing, effortlessly unbuttoned despite the chill in the air. He seemed to be with a woman and a group of children and young teens, at least two of the smaller ones were running up and down the bleachers. _Probably his sister_ , she assured herself—she hadn’t met Jenny but she knew she had several children.

She counted days, she counted miles but now to see him there brought everything she had been trying to forget back in a rush. Her face felt even more flushed than before and something deep in her heart stirred awake. She stared at him voyeuristically--simultaneously willing him to turn around to catch her eye and hoping he wouldn’t see her. Surrounded by canoodling teenagers she thought to herself, _you know I adore you; I’m crazier for you than I was at sixteen for anybody._ It was like she was lost in a film scene, waving homecoming queens, the marching band playing and those Friday night lights. Halftime had started and she hadn’t even noticed until Jamie arose from his seat and started heading up the bleacher steps. She tried to watch him from the corner of her eye. He looked exactly the same, yet different somehow, like the spark was missing from him. _We’re so sad we paint the town blue_ she mused to herself. She knew she had hurt him, but it was better to do so in the short run than string him along. As a nurse, she knew the benefits of ripping a bandage off quickly. She averted her eyes down as he passed; the stairs were far enough from where she was sitting that she hoped he wouldn’t notice, and he didn’t seem to as he continued up to the concession stand. She released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and was left with her head hung as she tried to come up with an escape plan. 

\----------

“Claire?” that rolling Scottish way he said her name interrupted—no—obliterated her thoughts. She looked up at those blue eyes, filled with the same concern and heartbreak as they had been a month ago. 

“Hi, Jamie! Fancy seeing you here!” She tried to sound casual. _Do I sound casual? Fancy seeing you here? Who says that?_ Her heart was beating so loud it was difficult to tell. His arms were full of nachos, hot dogs and drinks and though he looked confident in his balancing act, it seemed like he might lose an item at any minute.

“Erm... do you need a hand with that?” She spoke without thinking. _What are you doing Beauchamp? This is exactly the opposite of keeping your distance._

“Aye, that’d be… helpful” She grabbed a flimsy cardboard tray of hotdogs loaded with various toppings from him before he dropped it. “Thanks, Claire”. The way he said her name made her feel like the hormonal teenage girls they were surrounded by, all fluttery and silly. There was nothing she could do but to follow him down the bleacher steps with the tray of hot dogs and a cup of what smelled like hot cocoa she had also grabbed from him a moment before. 

“Here we are” He distributed the food to the various children, saying each one’s name and order as he did. Claire couldn’t really remember any of the names he said and just stood there, mouth gaping slightly as he reached for the objects in her hands. Once her hands were empty, she stood there awkwardly. “Ye’re welcome to join us, Claire” he said, patting the cold metal bench beside him. She gave an awkward smile and proceeded to sit, unable to say no to him when she said her name in that way that made her knees feel like they were made of jelly. “Everyone this is my friend, Claire—Claire, this is everyone.” There were slight waves and smiles but ‘everyone’ was mostly concerned with their snacks and didn’t pay much notice to the stranger with the dark curls sitting beside their uncle.

Only Jenny, at the far end of a row of children, was polite enough to call down “Pleased to meet you, Claire, I’m Jenny, Jamie’s big sister” Claire smiled sheepishly and waved down to her end.

After a few moments of awkward silence Claire asked, “so what brings you to our fine academic institution’s homecoming game?”

“My nephew Ian, number 13” he said, gesturing towards the field. “We tried to get him to play footie--soccer as they say here, but Ian’s always marched to the beat of his own drum. He seems to be verra good at assimilating to the American way.”

“I see” affirmed Claire, admiring the way Jamie spoke of his family. God, he was so perfect. _Too perfect for me—no one like him deserves an adulterous hussy with a trail of broken men behind her. No, he’s better off without me—but he’s so close._ She could feel the heat radiating off his body towards her. Whatever that spark she felt between them when they first met was still very much there. He was just as tense as she was, she could tell, his arm opposite her was drumming a steady beat on his thigh. She wished so desperately that she could read his mind.

The two boys beside Jamie had finished their hot dogs and had started climbing underneath the bleachers. They seemed to be testing the boundaries of what was safe, but weren’t going higher than they should. Jenny kept a watchful eye on them and Jamie was alert to them as well. 

“Sassenach, you ken what I’ve heard about American teenagers” he spoke softly, close to her ear so only she could hear him. It made the fine hairs on her neck stand and gave her the sensation of something stirring deep within her.

“What American stories have you been hearing?” she giggled, trying to imagine the insight she was about to gain.

“I heard... that they go underneath these bleachers and _make out_.” he rasped, his voice feigning concern.

“Shocking. What is this world coming to?” She gestured as if she were clutching an imaginary string of pearls. Flirting with him came so effortlessly, as it had since the very beginning and she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

“See those bleachers o’er there, Sassenach?” she nodded as he gestured to the opposing team’s bleachers across the field. “If I were an American teen, I would bring a lassie underneath _those_ bleachers—much quieter you ken, than with these wee monkeys crawling about.”

“I see” she smirked and raised an eyebrow, daring herself to get lost in those blue eyes.

“You know, as a member of the faculty of this school, isna it your responsibility to check to see the teens aren’t doing anything… unsavory?”

“I suppose it might be part of my job description.” she was wondering where this flirty banter was headed. She felt alive again for the first time in the month since she had seen him last.

“I must admit, I have to use the facilities, perhaps you should see to that while I’m gone.” He was sure to catch her eye as she said it, blinking like an owl in a pathetic attempt to wink at her. His meaning was clear though.

He arose and announced to his family he had to use the toilet and he might leave from there and meet them at home. The team was losing disastrously, the other team was full of brutes and the Wildcats were left battered and bruising. The cheerleaders were a collection of depressed damsels, and the crowd was already starting to thin, so this came as no surprise to anyone as Jamie took his leave.

So there Claire was—left alone with a decision to make. She was feeling so many things at once, a little scared, a bit apprehensive, but mostly excited. She couldn’t go back to him though, it wouldn’t work. She knew he was leaving soon and she was determined to achieve her goals and prove to everyone who she really could be without any distractions. If she was ever going to restore her reputation, she had to stay far away from him. She had to tell him to stay away. _And now the storm is coming_ she thought to herself as she set herself to march over there and tell him off again.

\----------

It was quiet under the bleachers. Claire didn’t see Jamie at first, shadowed under the bleachers. “I was beginning to think ya wouldn’t come, Sassanach”. The familiar nickname captured her heart again, making her feel weak, losing her resolve. Jamie closed the distance between them in three strides. “I took the liberty of checking for teenagers for ye, the coast is clear. Now as for the making out part…” He lifted her chin and their eyes met. Claire’s knees felt like they were made of sand and would dissolve at any moment. Her pulse quickened and her breath became shaky. There he was, burning before her, asking permission with those goddamn gorgeous blue eyes and she was feeling helpless. 

“Jamie. I...” She couldn’t look at him. She turned, the scoreboard momentarily lighting her face and ran for her life.

He caught her arm gently but firmly moments later. “No, you dinna get to run away again without hearing me out. It’s you and me. There’s nothing like this.” he was practically growling at her. Claire sensed something deep and primal in his voice and her lip started to quiver.

Eyes fixed on the ground she spoke as boldly as she could through her quivering vocal cords, “I’m a bad, bad girl. I’m no good for you. I’ve done so many horrible things. You are the only one that seems to care about me, but you should know that it’s not worth it.” the tears were starting to flow freely now as she sobbed, “Just let me go.”

“No, I don’t want you to go. I dinna really wanna fight either because nobody’s gonna win, but I’ll fight you if I must, Claire, I’ll fight for you, for us ‘cause I know this is a fight that someday we’re gonna win, and I’ll never let you go.” Jamie was huffing with exasperation and passion. “I just thought you should know. It’s you and me. That’s my whole world”

Claire’s knees couldn’t hold her up anymore, she collapsed on the ground, a sobbing mess. How could he still love her after all she did? _I don’t deserve this. I came here to break it off and now I’m likely to run away with you._ He was on his knees too now, facing her, rubbing her back gently, waiting patiently for her to compose herself. She was finally able to glance up at him through puffy, tear-stained eyes. “Darling, I’m scared.”


	7. Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance meeting at a football game from Jamie's perspective, and what happens under the bleachers.
> 
> "It's all me in my head  
> I'm the one who burned us down  
> But it's not what I meant  
> Sorry that I hurt you  
> I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you  
> I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and all your kind comments on the last chapter! I promise we're almost "Out of the Wood" as far as angst goes (for now). Follow me on Tumblr (SassenachSwiftie) and Twitter (@SassenachSwifty) for previews!

Jamie’s heart was still aching a month after Claire left him. However, his pride kept him from reaching out to her. The truth is, he’d forgiven everything she’d done and everything she could do long before that day. For him, that was no choice. That was falling in love. He threw himself into his work on the farm and his family. Helping Jenny with meals, driving the children to various practices and scout meetings, helping Ian with the unending harvest September brought.

On this particular Friday evening, Jamie found himself at his nephew Ian’s homecoming game. He tried to pay attention to the game, but he really couldn’t wrap his head around the complexities of American football. It was so stop-and-go--what exactly was a ‘down’? It reminded him of battle maps of the Rising he’d seen in a history textbook when he was in high school in Scotland. Naturally, his thoughts drifted to Claire. As the cold September air wrapped around him, he felt it was fitting. His heart had been cold, frozen without Claire’s light and love for the past month. He could have buttoned his jacket, but what was the point of feeling warm?

He didn’t even realize it was half time, until he heard the marching band start playing. Everything around him was bright and alive, he felt like an island, detached from his surroundings, drifting in the waves. In truth he’d been living like an island all month. He decided to get some snacks to distract himself. He hadn’t sat like this without a distraction all month. At least with Kitty’s soccer games he could focus on the game. Here, where the game was an enigma to him, he needed a task to deter his restless mind. 

“I’m going to go get something to eat, anyone want anything?” he asked his family. A barrage of orders came at him from his nieces and nephews, and he recited them back--intentionally messing up their orders (much to their amusement) before correcting himself and making his way up the bleachers.

It was on his way back down that he spotted an unmistakable mop of curly brown hair and almost dropped the snacks he just shelled out twelve American dollars for. _Sassenach_. His heartbeat immediately picked up to match the beat of the marching band. God, she was beautiful, but she looked so fragile there, cold and alone, head down, wearing a muted blue grey jacket that seemed to match the air around her. He suddenly realized how stupid he’d been all month to ignore her. He’d punished her with silence. How many times had he typed a text to her only to erase it without pressing send? How many times had he pulled up her contact but couldn’t press the call button? Now seeing her like this, she looked so utterly broken. It was excruciating to see her so low. Had his own pride allowed him to do this to her? _I blew things out of proportion now you’re blue._ He wanted to wrap her up until he saw that beautiful spark light up her face again. He just wanted to lift her up and not let her go. Before he knew it he was beside her, “Claire?”

“Hi Jamie, fancy seeing you here!” He had no idea how to reply, it was as if he had gone mute. He just stared into those whiskey eyes that looked so full of sorrow. He almost started to reach out to her, forgetting the concessions he was holding. Luckily, she offered to help him carry them and before he knew it they were headed down the bleachers together.

When she agreed to sit with him his heart was soaring. If simply sitting next to her was all he could have for the rest of his life, it would be enough. _I don’t wanna lose this with you._ They were actually able to talk and even flirt a bit as she tried to watch the game, but his eyes couldn’t leave her. He felt so comfortable with her, they just seemed to fit together effortlessly. She was so close he could smell her shampoo, something herbal that he couldn’t quite pin down. It wasn’t fruity or overpoweringly floral like some women he had met in his life--it suited her. Having her there, inches from her made him feel bold. He formulated a plan in his head to get her alone, he needed to be closer to her, but not with his entire family right there.

\----------

He had ended his bold, flirtatious exchange by winking to make it abundantly clear what he was asking her. She had seemed responsive. Her face lit up like it had so many times over the summer they shared. He was starting to sweat despite the chill in the air pacing underneath the away team’s bleachers as he waited for her. How long should he wait? What if she wasn’t coming? What if she saw this opportunity to leave again? _It’s all me, Claire, just don’t go, please, come to me mo nighean donn. ~~~~_

After what seemed like an eternity, she came to him. He heard her feet soft on the gravel, approaching him in the dark. He saw his opportunity, and met her, taking her in his arms as soon as he could, ready to take her mouth as he had imagined so many times in the past month. How many times had he imagined kissing her again? How many times had he tried to recreate their last night together—conjuring the thought of pinning her hands behind her back and making love to her in the soft light of their hotel bed. He wished he had committed every moment to memory, not knowing it could have been their last. None of that mattered now, his Sassenach had returned to his arms--but just like that, she was gone again running away--but he wouldn’t let her go this time. _Don’t walk away._ He pulled her back and set her straight. Poor, beautiful, broken, Claire collapsed before him. He sat with her, trying to calm and comfort her, when she could speak, she confessed she was afraid. 

“Claire, there now, what are you scared of?”

“I don’t wanna--I don’t wanna do this to you” she sobbed, choking out the words.

“Claire, what are you talking about?” he could see the pain on her face and he needed to explain, needed to say his piece. “I’m to blame Claire, I see your pain, I should’ve come after you, I shouldn’t have let you leave.”

“He, it’s all me, in my head. I’m the one who burned us down. I just tried to leave you again, but it’s not what I meant. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know if we can put this back together. I don’t know what’s going to happen to us.”

“Is this it? Chemistry ‘til it blows up, ‘til there’s no us? Is that what you want?” He placed his thumb under her chin, lifting her head so their eyes could meet. She didn’t look away. “Claire, please just tell me what you want.” _Tell me that I’m all you want._

“I--I don’t know what I want. I thought I did, but now--” she paused. Jamie could tell she was thinking, and let her mind work as he stared into her beautiful amber eyes. Claire could see her pain reflected in his own eyes. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him a month ago in the car, she knew now if she had she would have seen it then too. He was just as broken as she was. _Why’d I have to break what I love so much?_ Her tears started flowing freely again. “Oh Jamie, I put you in jail for something you didn’t do. I’m sorry that I hurt you. How can you ever forgive me? After all I’ve done--how can we be just fine, how can we be together?”

“I forgive you, I’ve forgiven you. I swear to it, I wanted to text you, to call you. I let my pride get in the way. I just need to know, Claire, I need to know where your heart’s at now. Tell me that you’re still mine. I need to hear you say it.” 

Claire realized in that moment that she was fighting with true love. It was like boxing with no gloves--futile, hopeless and most of all painful. She couldn’t keep herself from him no matter how hard she tried. _I thought I had reason to attack, but no._ What did she want? She wanted him. She wanted him to be the one by her side, the one she told when she finally got into a residency program. The one to celebrate life’s victories big and small. The one to be there as she put her life together. She knew she couldn’t put it back together without him. He had bared himself to her, and she knew he wasn’t going to let her get away with silence. It was her turn to share her feelings. “Jamie, I want to be with you. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. It terrifies me, but I can’t help it. I’m drawn to you; I can’t explain it”

Jamie’s hand was still on her face, thumb stroking her cheek, as she spoke, he took her hand in his other hand, entwining their fingers together. Something about this moment told him this love was worth the fight. “Aye, Sassenach, I feel it too. I don’t ken what it is, but I think we’re meant to honor it.” Claire nodded in agreement. They had been drawing in closer to one another as apologies and declarations were made in the dark. Each moment they shared under the bleachers, their faces inched closer together. “Claire, I would very much like to kiss you” he whispered, “May I?”

“Yes” came her breathless reply.

Instantly, their mouths were joined. Slowly, tentatively they reacquainted their lips before opening to each other fully. Tongues finding their way back between open lips, teeth finding their way to lower lips. All the pent-up passion of the last month culminated into one enduring kiss. 

Claire finally managed to pull away, realizing where they were. For a moment, they basked in the afterglow of their reunion, meeting again after a painful month of separation, each living a half life. “Jamie,” she panted, slightly out of breath, “take me home.”

“As ye wish, Sassenach.” he replied, rising to help her to her feet and slipping his arm firmly around her and kissing the side of her head as he led her to the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter actually has two complete iterations. I orginally wrote it as "Me!" and it worked pretty well, I was actually pretty proud of myself for using such a catchy pop song for such an emotionally weighty chapter. However, as I started to write Chapter 8, I realized "Afterglow" didn't fit after they'd already hashed everything else out. The title really threw me, because we're "meeting in the Afterglow" in the future, but the lyrics hold the emotional weight. I think I'll post the "Me!" chapter as an outtake in case anyone wants to read it, since I am pretty proud of it, stay tuned for that later.  
> Thanks again for reading.


	8. Me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire are finally reunited!! We left our lovers under the bleachers, where Claire whispered "take me home." I'm sure you can imagine where this is going. 🔥
> 
> "'Cause one of these things is not like the others  
> Livin' in winter, I am your summer  
> Baby doll, when it comes to a lover  
> I promise that you'll never find another like me..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and bearing with me through all the angst!! If you have issues with smut, maybe skip this chapter (the very beginning and very end are safe, but not much in between).  
> 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥  
> Follow me on tumblr (thesassenachswiftie) and Twitter (sassenachswifty) for moodboard previews and updates.

In spite of the chill in the air, Jamie felt warm for the first time in months. He had been living in winter and Claire was his summer--returned to him after their time apart. Somewhere in the distance, a teenager reluctantly shouted “strike the band up...1,2,3”; from the sound of it, the game had ended and the marching band was playing the crowd out. They had already made their way to the parking lot and arrived there before the throng, Jamie’s arm firmly planted around Claire the whole time. Jamie didn’t ever want to let her go again. He opened his car door for her in the parking lot and winced to let her go for the few moments it took to walk around the car to the driver’s seat. Once inside the car, he planted his right hand firmly on her left. He never let go for the entire ride back to his apartment, caressing her hand gently with his thumb and stealing glances at her at every stop light. He could still hardly believe she had come back to him. He never wanted to see her walk away again. The last time they had been in a car together she wouldn’t let him touch her--would they have even been apart if she had? Having that physical connection made open and honest conversation easier between them. “Claire, are you really here? Are you really mine?”

“Jamie, when you ran after me and called my name, that was it for me. I couldn’t run away again; I couldn’t leave well enough alone even if I wanted to. I don’t know what it is between us. It’s not usual. It’s different.”

“Aye, I ken what you mean, Sassenach.” he briefly pulled the hand he’d been holding to his lips, kissing just under the knuckles.

Claire laughed gently, “one of these things is not like the others” she chanted, smirking.

“Well, there’s a lot of lame guys out there” he chucked back to her. “Babydoll, when it comes to a lover I promise that you’ll never find another like me.” Jamie was beaming, his world felt like a rainbow with all of the colors now that his Claire, his sorcha, his light was back in his life.

“Mmm… I don’t doubt it.” She closed her eyes, picturing _just_ the kind of lover he was, grinning and blushing as she imagined where they would end up this evening. “I don’t doubt it one bit.”

\----------

When they arrived in the driveway below his apartment Jamie was again remiss to let go of Claire’s hand to exit the car. Immediately, their arms were around each other again as they made their way up the narrow staircase to Jamie’s above-garage apartment. As soon as they closed the door behind them, Jamie grabbed Claire’s curly mane and brought her lips to his own, kicking off his shoes as he did so and guiding her into the studio apartment towards his bed. Their lips only separated to pull clothing over heads in a whirlwind of passion--a coat on the floor in the entryway, a shirt draped over the kitchen chair, a pair of jeans strewn across the coffee table, Claire’s bra discarded on an end table. Panting, they arrived at the bed where Claire sat and peeled off her skinny jeans and underwear before assisting Jamie in stripping off his boxer briefs. He stood before her beside the bed and she lay back. For a moment, they stared at each other, taking in the sight of each other's naked bodies, comparing them with their memories of a month ago. Jamie was the first to break the silence. “Sassenach, I’m bewitched by you--completely under your spell.”

Claire reached up for his forearm, pulling him down on top of her, “Mmm… Spelling is fun” she cooed, pulling him in for another impassioned kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist and they began rubbing against each other’s most sensitive areas. Claire had been so deprived of pleasure in the past month, she felt that just this simple action could be enough to take her over the edge. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Jamie felt the same, feeling just how much he wanted her against her.

“Christ Sassenach”, he whispered in her ear, moving to kiss her earlobe, and down her neck. He adjusted his position to keep himself from finishing too soon, allowing her to rub on his strong thigh instead as his lips made their way to her breasts. He kissed and sucked each nipple generously, settling to work on the right one while his left hand caressed the other. He devoured her skin ravenously; this was a meal he hadn’t had in a month and it was more delectable than he remembered. After satisfying both her breasts, her nipples engorged and erect, he continued kissing down to her stomach, her hips, her thighs, her inner thighs. He knew he was teasing her, but every inch of her skin was missed and delicious to him, he wanted to savor every bit of her. Feeling Jamie explore these untouched places caused Claire to involuntarily giggle, the scruff of his chin and delicate caress of his tongue tickling those sensitive spots. “I will never tire of your wee noises, Sassenach”

“I do not make wee-e-e, oo- oo- oo--” Claire’s protestations were interrupted by Jamie’s mouth finally making its way to that bundle of nerves she had been anticipating for what simultaneously felt like moments and eons. Claire panted and hummed as he sucked and licked, knowing just when to change pressure to keep her pleasured yet wanting more. Finally, he brought her to that place where she saw stars behind her eyelids, and cried out his name in pure ecstasy.

“Ya do make wee noises, Sassenach, and baby, that’s the fun of you.” he stated smugly, clearly proud of himself for eliciting such a reaction from her. 

“I know I tend to make it about me, but allow me to return the favor, my darling” she elicited, sitting up and moving to her knees on the floor, beside the bed.

“Who would I be to deny the lady’s request?” he mused, taking her position on the bed. 

“God Jamie! It’s bigger than I remember!” she exclaimed, taking his cock in her and gently stroking it.

“I know, I’m a handful, baby uh--” he groaned as she took him between her lips, _“and_ a mouthful, apparently.” He attempted to wink at her for the second time that evening, his owl-like expression and smug smile meeting her whiskey eyes staring up at him. Using her hand to grasp and stroke his base in time with her mouth on his shaft, she ran her tongue and lips along him until he was the one letting out unrecognizable noises and sharp inhalations. He tangled his fingers in her curls as if he were holding on for dear life. “Oh God Claire!” he cried out, spilling into her mouth. She swallowed, wiping her lips after releasing him. They were both breathless. He drew her up onto the bed with him and then down to collapse on the bed in his arms. 

“Come here, mo nighean donn, let me keep you company.” He brought his lips to hers for the umpteenth time that evening, worming his tongue between her lips. They shared another passionate kiss, this time slow and lingering, savoring the taste of themselves on each other’s lips--something that was new for Claire. 

“No one’s ever done that before,” she rasped when they released.

“Done what?” he questioned, his blue eyes peering deep into her whiskey-colored ones.

“Kissed me after… well, after what I just did to you.” Claire, blushed, averting her eyes to his piercing gaze.

“There’s a lot of lame guys out there, Sassenach. I’d kiss ya even if you just ate a tuna sandwich with onions dipped in garlic and topped with stinky cheese, this is nothing.”

Claire exploded with laughter at his comment. “Mmmm… how appetizing,” she sputtered sarcastically between her chuckles. She’d missed how fun he was to be around. He certainly would never bore her. She’d forgotten how wonderful it was to laugh in his arms, in his bed. When was the last time she laughed? Had it really been since that night in Montauk? The night she didn’t think before she jumped in and told him she loved him? The same night she also thought _too much_ and decided to ruin everything? How had he allowed her back into his arms so easily after what she’d done to him. She was lying beside him now--her curls and one of her delicate hands spilling over his firm chest, and he was gently stroking her hair. “Why’d you let me come back to you Jamie? You could have anyone else, you’re the kind of guy the ladies want. Why me? After all I put you through.”

He pulled her chin up so their eyes could meet. “In truth, I don’t always ken myself. I’ll admit I was angry after I found out what ya did to me, but I meant what I said earlier. I forgive you. I can understand why you did it, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it too--even if the circumstances weren’t exactly my idea of honorable. I’m glad you told me though--I felt I hated you for it at first, but it’s better to be honest with each other.”

“I’m so sorry Jamie, I should have never toyed with your honor like that. All I could think of that first night was how much I wanted you, but it shouldn’t have been like that. I should have left Frank right then and there. I’m afraid I was a coward.” she admitted. “I’m afraid you never get just what you see with me, but I want to change that. I don’t want to lie to you anymore. I feel like my heart and my head have been battling since we met and I’ve only been able to show you one or the other. Like I’ve been two completely different people. I want to be able to show you all of me, the only one of me.”

“I’d like that very much, Sassenach” there was a truth in her eyes that he saw and understood. For the first time in their torrid relationship, she was completely vulnerable and exposed to him. Free from the weight of any hidden baggage, the air around them felt light, like they could float together, right off the bed and into the stratosphere. Everything was out in the open and they were free to just be. Claire felt it too, the weight that had been bearing down on her their whole relationship was gone from this meeting. She had aired her dark secrets and he still accepted her in spite of her shortcomings.

Jamie pulled her into a kiss--slow, lingering, passionate. Their tongues danced lazily, in no rush to do anything but enjoy each other’s company. Carefully, Jamie rolled Claire onto her back, positioning himself on top of her. He began to kiss, suckle and roll his tongue across her earlobe, causing her to moan and squeak with pleasure and anticipation. He brought his hand to the space in between her legs, gently stroking the place he knew she wanted him too, caressing the moist folds of her skin, teasing around her entrance with his fingertips. “Jamie” she whispered in his ear, “I want you inside me--please.”

He guided himself inside her in one smooth stroke. Their bodies quickly found a gentle rhythm, synchronizing completely as if they were created to fit together, two halves of the same whole joining. They had started their evening at homecoming, but now they were coming home. Their desire for each other swelled and grew together and the pace of their movements followed. “Don’t stop, Jamie!” Claire cried out, on the edge of her passion.

“I won’t stop, baby.” he panted back to her, nearing his own precipice. Moments later, Claire let out a piercing cry of his name, fingers clawing into his shoulders, her whole body squirming with pleasure. That was more than Jamie needed to bring him toppling over the edge with her, his own pleasure bursting behind his eyes.

He dismounted from her, handing her a box of tissues from the nightstand so they could clean themselves up, and laying on his side next to her, his curly red mop propped up on his large hand, taking in the naked beauty lying beside him. “I’m so glad you’ve come back to me, mo nighean donn.” He gently stroked the skin of her breast.

“I didn’t think you’d miss me after a time, you’re a very attractive man, and there’s a lot of cool chick’s out there. Surely, you could have found someone else.”

“There is only one of you, Sassenach.” he smirked, kissing her curly mane “no one else could compare.”

They continued to lie together in silence. Jamie continued softly caressing Claire’s milky skin, taking in everything inch of her, memorizing her every curve. Eventually Claire broke the silence.

“Jamie?” there was a hint of anxiety in her tone.

“What is it, mo chirde?”

“When are you leaving?” she whimpered.

“Not for another few weeks yet, I’ll help Jenny and Ian with the pumpkin harvest but I have to be back before the end of the month to get my wee tree farm up and running before my own busy season. It seems to be starting earlier each year.” he mused. Jamie ran a Christmas Tree farm on the outskirts of London, something Claire had learned the night they met.

“What happens then? With us?” There was a pleading in her golden eyes as she looked into his.

“Och! A wee ocean isn’t going to stop the way I feel about you.” he insisted, kissing her forehead. “It’ll be different, yes, but I’ll call you every night, and we can visit each other when you have breaks from school, right?”

“That sounds like it could work. I’ll miss _this_ though.” She ran her hand up and down his body, making it clear exactly what she met.

“And _I’ll_ miss _this_.” He reached around her body, taking a generous handful of her arse. “I swear we’ll make this work, Claire; I never want to be parted from you again.” In truth, he was imagining her joining him in England. Making space for her in his home. Perhaps she would grow a small herb garden behind the kitchen, and they’d laugh together as he washed dishes and she dried in the evenings. Eventually, they’d have a bairn or two running around the place, keeping them on their toes. It was all so beautiful and real in his head, but he knew it was too soon to ask. He knew it would be a huge decision for her and she’d been through so much in the past few months, he didn’t need to throw her a curveball like that. She had only just returned to him, only just been able to open up to him. For now, all he could do was silently vow that someday, he would make that fantasy a reality.

\----------

Jamie and Claire continued kissing, caressing, and humming sweet words into each other’s ears well into the small hours of the night. They enjoyed each other’s company more than they ever had before now that the walls between them had crumbled. Eventually, the week caught up with Claire and she fell asleep before Jamie did, using his shoulder as a pillow. Jamie stayed awake, taking her in, stroking her soft curls, and imagining their future together. When he was sure she was asleep, he kissed her cheek softly and whispered in her ear, “I promise that nobody’s gonna love you like me.”


	9. I Think He Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jamie spend a romantic day in the city.
> 
> "He got my heartbeat  
> Skipping down 16th Avenue  
> Got that, oh! I mean  
> Wanna see what's under that attitude  
> Like, I want you, bless my soul..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is SO FLUFFY and it's my favorite so far!! Get ready to go on a date with these two lovers!

Claire had just arrived home from work on a crisp October Monday afternoon when she felt her phone buzzing in her bag. Kicking off her shoes, she dug for it and smiled when she saw Jamie’s name and picture taking over her screen.

“Have you timed my commute, I just texted you before I left.” She was smirking as she giggled a bit, hoping he could hear the amusement in her voice although her tone was mock accusatory.

“Mebbe…“came Jamie’s bashful reply. “You have a long weekend next weekend, correct?”

“Yes, apparently our great nation is still a big fan of colonialism so I have next Monday off.”

“So, I ken we’ve been keeping a low profile, but what would you say to spending the weekend in the city with me?” he asked a bit sheepishly. Before she could reply, he provided reasoning: “It’s a big city and we’re not so likely to be seen, not to mention it’s been several months since ya left Frank, and people are less likely to be suspicious of our relationship.”

“You, obviously don’t know Frank’s people that well,” came her bitter reply, rolling her eyes despite the fact that he could see, “but I suppose you’re right. What’s a country boy like you want to spend his last weekend here in the big city for though?”

“Weill, I may have won a wee radio contest and scored us tickets to a Sunday matinee of _Wicked_. I thought we could head in Saturday, and make a weekend out of it. I have a few other places in mind I’d like to take ya.” Jamie’s enthusiasm was obvious in his voice.

“That actually sounds really nice.” Claire was beaming at the thought. “You do know I lived in the city for four years though right? Shouldn’t I be the one showing you around?”

“If ya have anywhere in mind, I’ll gladly add it to the list”

“Oh, there’s a list?” she elicited, smirking to herself.

“Aye, I fully intend to spend the weekend sweeping you off your feet, Ms. Beauchamp.” He was an architect drawing up his plans.

“Is that so?” she giggled “Well I certainly don’t intend on spending your last weekend here without you, and if you have Broadway tickets I simply can’t have you taking someone else.” she declared.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, I’d have to scalp the tickets on the street.” he chuckled back. “Or worse, give the tickets to Jenny and Ian and spend the weekend watching the bairns.”

“We certainly can’t have that!” she dramatized. Her tone shifted and her voice became gentler as she continued, “a weekend in the city with you sounds wonderful, Jamie.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page, Sassenach. Besides, I already booked a lovely little AirBnB in Greenwich Village.” 

“Ok, if we’re going to be in The Village I have only one request.”

“Anything for you, Sassenach.”

“We have to get Murray’s bagels for breakfast at least one morning. They’re the best in the city.”

“Of course, I’ll add it to the list”

“There really is a list, isn’t there?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you want to share the list with me?” she elicited.

“Nae, I’d rather surprise ya if it’s all the same.”

“You’re such a romantic, James Fraser.”

“Can you blame me, when I have such beautiful Sassenach to woo?” Claire just giggled in reply, glad Jamie couldn’t see her blushing over the phone. The smooth hum of her chuckle always reminded Jamie of church bells, and his heart leapt a bit hearing the noise. “I was thinking we could catch the nine AM train on Saturday morning, the AirBnB wasna available Friday night and I dinnae wanna rush you out exhausted after yer work week anyway, ya ken? If nine is too early we could push it to ten, but no later, I have a lot planned.”

“I’ll aim for nine, we can push it to ten if I oversleep.” she chuckled. “I’m really excited, I’ve always wanted to see _Wicked_ ”

“I ken. Ya told me once.”

“Of course you ken.” she chided, “you really are a romantic.”

“So I’ll see you Saturday morning?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

\----------

As it turned out, Claire could not sleep-in Saturday morning. The excitement of spending a whole weekend with Jamie alone--a weekend in which he planned on _sweeping her off her feet_ \--was enough to have her up at the crack of dawn. Although she was awake with anticipation, she allowed herself to laze in bed for a few hours, daydreaming of the possibilities. Perhaps he would take her on a carriage ride through central park--that seemed to be what the romantic leads in all the movies would do. She didn’t understand what was going on with her. It was like she was seventeen again, all aflutter with butterflies and daydreaming about this incredible man the universe had seen fit to place in her life. Every night her mind went there, to him, his body, the feel of his hands on her own body, the taste of his kiss. Every morning, he was the first thing she thought of when she awoke.

Eventually, she stretched leisurely and slipped out from under the covers to dress and have breakfast before she left. She slipped into a pair of jeans that best accentuated her posterior, knowing it to be one of Jamie’s favorite parts of her, and a cozy form fitting sweater to combat the fall air. It was a warm day for October, and the sun was peeking through the windows as she put the last few essentials into the weekender bag she packed the night before: deodorant, toothbrush, and her phone charger. As she glanced at herself in the mirror again, she wished she’d thought to ask Jamie how to dress for the day’s events, but she had packed outfits for all occasions and figured she could change at the train station if she felt underdressed in comparison to him. It wasn’t like they would go somewhere super formal midday anyway, and she knew Jamie was thoughtful enough that he probably would have mentioned it if they were. At 9:00 Jamie texted: “ _So, is it the 9:00 train, or the 10:00 milady?”_

_“I’ll be ready for the 9:00_ **😊** _”_

_“See you soon Sassenach_ ❤️ _”_

_“_ 💗 _”_

She arrived at the train station shortly after 8:30 and Jamie was already there waiting for her, wearing Jeans and a flannel shirt. Claire was pleased that she had dressed appropriately and her face lit up at the sight of him. God, he was handsome. He had that boyish look that she liked in a man, and his plan to sweep her off her feet was already succeeding.

\----------

An hour later, Jamie and Claire were getting off the train at Jamaica station, much to Claire’s bewilderment. “I thought we were going to Manhattan, where are you taking me?” she queried.

“All in good time, Sassenach” he replied evasively, putting his arm around her as he led her through the station to wait for their next train, “but I can let ya know we’ll be spending the better part of the day in Brooklyn before making our way to Manhattan, I’ve got somewhere I’d like to take ya.”

“Always full of surprises aren’t you?” Claire glanced up at those blue eyes she had come to find refuge in. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have him, to keep him despite all her mistakes and shortcomings over the course of their less than half-year relationship. She planted a sweet kiss on his firm shoulder before resting her head there as they waited for the train. A couple months ago, she had drunkenly told him she loved him in the back of an Uber. She knew her feelings had not changed in all that time, but they hadn’t told each other those three little words since that night. Part of her was afraid she would mess things up again--afraid to repeat the past and make the same mistake twice. She didn’t want to lose him again; she didn’t think she could take that pain. Mostly though, Claire was confident that Jamie was aware of her feelings and didn’t _really_ need to be told again. Every time she thought to herself that she should say it, the moment didn’t feel right. _I ain’t gotta tell him, I think he knows._ Besides, it was too soon since their reunion--this iteration of their relationship was still too new for that. When she did say it, she wanted it to feel special, certainly _not_ drunkenly blurted out, and not too casually either. However, with every little romantic gesture he did, she came increasingly closer to shouting it from the rooftops. Maybe she would reach a breaking point this weekend.

The one lingering question was that Jamie hadn’t said it either. Perhaps his feelings had changed since then, but the way he acted around her--that was hard to believe. He didn’t ruin everything by saying it last time, surely it would be easier for him to say it first this time around. His actions said it every time they were together, but she longed to hear it from his lips. She secretly hoped he would reach his breaking point first.

\----------

By late morning, Jamie and Claire had arrived at their destination. They stowed their bags in a rented locker and Jamie led Claire on a brief walk to their destination: The Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Jamie knew Claire had a passion for gardening and an interest in botany and had been wanting to take her there for months. Since before they even got together, if he was being honest with himself. Claire’s face said it all when they started to enter the gates and Jamie paid their admission--she was beaming and truly touched by this thoughtful adventure they were embarking on. “Have ya ever been here, Sassenach?”

“You know, you think I would have made it here when I lived in the city, but I rarely ventured across the East River. A part of me wishes I had, but I’m glad to experience it with you for the first time.” They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment and shared a brief but passionate kiss just inside the entrance, not caring who was around to see. 

They began walking down the main tree-lined path around the perimeter of the grounds. It was a crisp fall day, cool enough for a sweater, but the midday sun was warming everything it touched making the weather perfectly pleasant for spending outdoors. The air smelled of leaves and everything seemed to be shimmering with autumnal brilliance. The couple wandered slowly through the Shakespeare garden. “I thought with your English heritage you’d like to see a proper English garden.” Jamie smiled at her as they strolled hand in hand along the quaint cobblestone path. Although many of the flowering plants were long since dormant, the trees were all the fiery shades of reds and oranges and there were small sprays of purple asters dotting the landscape. Jamie couldn’t help but think of the stone path behind his English cottage, and the beautiful garden Claire could make there to rival this one. He hoped she was drawing inspiration for her own English garden. Claire, meanwhile, was enjoying reading the Shakespearian poems and quotes on placards throughout the gardens, mentioning the plants that grew there. Her English heritage _did_ in fact give her a soft spot for the bard.

They seemed to be the only two people in this particular garden, and stopped to sit on a roofed bench tucked beneath a flaming oak tree. Claire just sat, breathing deeply and taking it all in--the foliage, Jamie’s lyrical smile and indigo eyes, his hand on her thigh. Everything seemed so perfect. “Jamie, this is so lovely. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yerself, Sassenach, we’re only just getting started though. I have much more planned for you, mo chirde” Jamie gently stroked Claire’s cheek as they got lost in each other’s eyes, lips drawing closer together. They kissed each other in the shade of the towering oak—a slow, languid kiss, tongues softly caressing. With no one else around and the whole day ahead of them, there was no rush to move on to their next stop and they could linger in the moment. Of course Claire was eager to see the rest of the gardens, and she knew Jamie surely had it all planned out, but for now she was just content to bask in his affections. When they finally separated and slowly got up to walk back to the main path, Jamie asked “are ya hungry?”

“Ravenous!” she exclaimed, throwing herself at him and nibbling on his earlobe.

“I meant for lunch, you wee vixen!” he exclaimed, playfully grabbing her arse.

“Mmmm… I know what you meant. I could eat.” She smirked.

“There’s a wee cafe a bit down the path, I thought we could grab a bite before I show ya more of the gardens.”

“That sounds perfect.” Came Claire’s enthusiastic reply. Jamie really did have the day planned out, even anticipating that they would need to eat. Claire was consistently touched by his thoughtfulness and attention to detail.

\----------

The Yellow Magnolia Café was a modern, comfortable space set inside one of the greenhouses, which allowed for expansive views of the foliage outdoors through the glass walls and ceiling. They were lucky enough to get a table near the window as they enjoyed a seasonal brunch and coffee. Claire offered to pay, but Jamie refused to let her, insisting that this weekend was his plan, his treat. If she wanted, she could treat them to bagels the following morning since that was her idea, but nothing else. Over brunch, they chatted about their everyday lives, conversation always coming naturally between them. Jamie shared stories of his niece’s and nephew’s shenanigans over the course of the week. Claire had a few stories to share as well, mostly second hand, of the ridiculous things that had happened within the walls of the high school she worked in. Being sequestered in the nurses office all day, she was isolated from most of the antics of the hallways and cafeteria, but Jo kept her updated on the latest drama, pranks, and stories amongst the teens she cared for.

By the end of brunch, they were both in high spirits--basking in the comfort of being around each other. Claire felt less giddy than she had earlier. She was still excited by the prospect of the rest of the weekend, but she just felt so comfortable around Jamie that she was able to feel calm in his presence. This was positive, because the constant waves of butterflies she had been feeling earlier would not have been sustainable, she much preferred the occasional butterfly to flutter through her gut throughout the day instead of the swarm.

They strolled through the indoor gardens and greenhouses, enjoying being able to see exotic flowers like orchids, bonsai trees and tropical plants, flourishing in the midst of the seasons changing outdoors. It was wonderful to think how life could thrive while everything outside seemed to be dying in one last radiant swan song of color. It was nice to know things still found a way with a little help, with a little shelter, and a little love. Claire found all three of these things in Jamie’s arms, and although it pained her to think of their coming separation, she knew it would not break them. She knew the winter would end, and like the flowers outside, he would come back to her in the spring, where their love would bloom more brilliantly than ever before. 

Jamie led Claire back out into the crisp fall air and led her to the Japanese garden. It was stunningly picturesque. The garden was situated around a small lake with small bridges, statues, arches and lookout points dotting the landscape. Trees arched their way over the paths, in dazzling shades of red and gold. It was as if all the colors of autumn sought to congregate around the glass surface of the lake and the picture of it nearly took Claire’s breath away as she and Jamie strolled. This part of the garden was more crowded than the Shakespeare garden, but they still managed to steal kisses along the way, ducking behind trees, or following narrow, less traveled paths with winding steps leading to shady alcoves. “Jamie, this is so beautiful, I’m so glad you took me here.” Claire professed as they stopped at a lookout spot along the path near a waterfall and took in the views of the lake, arms wrapped around one another. 

“I’m so glad, mo nighean donn” Jamie replied, planting a soft kiss in her curls. Claire had released one of her arms from him and was using it to take pictures of the scenery on her phone. “Claire,” Jamie interjected sheepishly, “could we take a selfie together?” Her face lit up as she spun around and pulled her phone out ahead of them, adjusting the angle to try to get the background and their faces in the shot. “Allow me” Jamie insisted, taking the phone from her. His long arms allowed for the perfect shot, their heads tucked in close, midafternoon sunshine lighting up their beaming smiles, and a bonfire of fall leaves and sparkling blue lake behind them. Jamie texted the picture to himself before handing Claire’s phone back to her. It was strange that they had never taken a selfie together before. He had several pictures of her saved on his phone from times they were together, mostly taken in his bed or at his breakfast table. She too had some of him, tucked away in a secret folder on her phone in case prying eyes tried to find them, but they had never taken a picture together until now. It made their relationship feel official somehow, real. They knew the picture wouldn’t be posted to social media or anything like that, it was still a delicate situation--Claire having broken off her engagement to Frank less than six months ago--but just having the picture privately between them was enough. 

The couple continued to wander through the garden, through winding tree lined paths, past a luminous yellow tree that smelled of maple syrup, and along wide promenade flanked by cherry trees, brilliant orange and gold in the autumn sunlight. “Do you think it’s just as lovely in the spring as in the fall? I can’t think of anything more beautiful than this, but cherry blossoms _are_ spectacular.” Claire wondered out loud.

“We’ll have to come back in the spring and find out” Jamie replied, caressing her shoulder.

“I’d like that very much” came her reply, wrapping her arms around him and burrowing close to his chest. They had been walking for several hours, enjoying the sights as much as each other's company. They laughed and talked and told stories of times before they met, holding hands or wrapping arms around waists as they strolled. It was really turning out to be the perfect autumn day.

“I have one more place I’d like to show ya.” Jamie declared, leading her down from an overlook they had been standing atop, looking out over the cherry trees.

“A rose garden?” she giggled as he led her under a white-painted trellis tangled with thorny branches. “In mid-October? They’re not likely to be in bloom this late in the season.”

“I ken, and I have every intention of bringing ya back here to see them bloom in late spring, but there’s something I want to show you now, today.” he was smiling, but his confidence wasn’t as apparent as it had been earlier that day. For the first time, he seemed a bit apprehensive. In truth, he was second guessing if a garden full of bare rose bushes was the best locale for a romantic gesture. The fall foliage was still on display in the distance outside the garden, and the architecture of the trellises and arch ways still led to a romantic atmosphere, but there definitely wasn’t much to look in the way of flowers. He wanted to tell her how he felt, to lock it down, he was worried if he didn’t she wouldn’t stick around. _The good ones never wait._

Claire interrupted his thoughts, “It sort of reminds me of _The Secret Garden_. Have you ever read it?”

“No, but Jenny had the movie on VHS when we were kids, I recall it somewhat.”

“It’s just, it’s dormant and we’re the only ones here, it feels like we’ve happened upon an abandoned garden, all to ourselves.” she smiled.

Jamie felt instantly at ease. She knew just what to say to assuage his doubts. He was feeling more confident as he led her under a pergola at the far end of the garden and down a set of stone steps. This part of the rose garden was smaller, situated around a statue in the center. The statue was of a woman in a thin dress that left little to the imagination, bowing over a large bouquet of roses in her arm, taking in their sweet scent. In her other arm, she held a sundial with a butterfly shaped gnomon. Jamie led Claire to the statue, palms sweaty in spite of the temperate weather. Near to the statue, a rosebush with a single, late blooming pink rose greeted the couple. 

“There’s a rose for ya, mo charide” he gestured to it, stroking the soft petals.

“The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all” she lilted.

“What a beautiful piece of poetry.”

She giggled, “it’s from Mulan, one of my favorites when I was a girl.”

“You shouldn’tha told me, so I could’ve kept thinking ya were a masterful wordsmith,” he teased, smirking.

Claire sighed dramatically, “I guess I’ll just resign myself to knowing you think less of me. How can I ever live with that knowledge?” she couldn’t help smirking though she was trying to feign taking offense. She knew he was so obsessed with her and boy, she understood the feeling.

“Aw Claire, I could never think less of ya” he pulled her close and wrapped her in his arms, locking his blue eyes on her whiskey ones. “Not ever” he whispered. Instead of drawing her in for a kiss, as she expected, he pointed her attention to the statue. “Do ya notice anything about this statue, Claire?”

“She looks cold” Claire chuckled, noting the statue’s erect nipple peeking through her gauzy dress. Strange how something made of metal could be considered gauzy--sculptors were truly impressive people.

Jamie chuckled at her observation, “maybe on the sundial, perhaps?”

Claire took a closer look, there were words inscribed on the sundial, she read them out loud, slowly “ _Perennis amor._ Hmm _.”_

“Do ya ken the meaning?”

“Hmm… amor means” she hesitated for a moment, looking up at him, “love.” meeting his eyes, she saw that very word reflected in them, “and perennis…” She thought about making a penis joke, but didn’t think it was right for the moment, even if it _was_ something that was on her mind, “like perennial, plants that come back year after year… constant, lasting”

“Eternal.” he finished for her, “eternal love.” her breath caught as he placed his thumb under her chin, meeting her eyes again. “That is what I have for ya, Claire. I love you, and I won’t stop loving you, ever. I ken we have a wee separation ahead of us, but whenever ya find yerself having doubts or fears about that Claire, I want ya to remember these words.” He brought the hand that was not on her face to the engraved surface of the sundial briefly, returning it to her waist.

Claire’s heart was racing, and the swarm of butterflies had returned to her stomach. Her eyes found his again after following his hand. “Oh Jamie,” she sighed, still feeling breathless “I love you too.” Jamie’s face broke into a smile and he drew her in for a long lingering kiss, gently caressing her tongue with his own, running his fingers through her curls and along her cheek bones.

When they eventually broke away he explained, “just like these roses are mostly gone, we may not be together much in the winter, but this love will still be there like the rose bushes we’re surrounded by. They’re not going anywhere, and we will blossom together again Claire. Always. I mean to make this work, I ken it willna be easy, but I’m gonna make every effort to keep ya.”

“I understand, it won’t be easy, but I will look forward to spring, when we can see the roses in bloom together. I’m not going anywhere; I’ll wait for you to come back.”

\----------

Claire and Jamie left the gardens and took a cab to a Deli on 16th Avenue for a quick dinner before heading back to the subway to Manhattan. They enjoyed their dinner, basking in the glow of their love. They probably looked like two teenagers, making eyes at each other and linking hands across the table. They both had goofy smiles plastered on their faces as they ate and talked. While they were waiting for their food, Claire couldn’t help but notice Jamie’s hands around a cold glass of soda. She remembered noticing them the first night she met him--it had been a glass of whiskey then, but the effect of it was still the same. Seeing how large his hands were compared to the glass, she imagined them on her body, stroking her in the most intimate places. _Those hands make me want to know that body like it’s mine._ This is where her thoughts went as she stared at those large hands, as they had that first night. The difference between then and now, was that now she knew _exactly_ how those hands would feel on her, and it was more pleasurable than she could have imagined. Whenever they were alone in his apartment, she made herself at home and he always wanted her to stay. Now they knew they had each other’s hearts, futures, and love as well as each other’s bodies. Claire was most assuredly looking forward to the added layer of intimacy their evening would have.

Leaving the restaurant and walking with Jamie down the sidewalk, Claire felt that his footprints on the sidewalk were leading her to where she couldn’t stop: couldn’t stop thinking of him, couldn’t stop wanting him, couldn’t stop loving him. Yes, it was complicated; yes, it didn’t make practical sense; yes, they were going to be separated by an ocean soon, but none of that seemed to matter right now. Right now, they were together and he had her heartbeat skipping down 16th Avenue. She felt so giddy, she wanted to actually skip down the street, hand in hand with Jamie shouting “look! We’re in love”. Her heart just felt so light, like she was on another plane, transcending the real world into something magical, deep and fiery. Through the connection of their entwined fingers, it was like they shared one pulse, one heart. They were no longer two separate people, they were two halves of a whole, truly themselves when they were together like this. “Jamie I’m so happy.”

“I ken what you mean Sassenach,” she could tell he was serious, but then his tone shifted “I am quite the catch after all” he teased.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.” she said, tugging at his shirt collar as they waited for the Uber to take them back to the train station. “I wanna see what’s under that attitude.” she whispered coyly. She was following the sparks he was giving off to wherever they would take them. They couldn’t get to the AirBnB fast enough. He captured her in a passionate kiss, tongues dancing, exploring, hands roaming and taking in the shapes of each other. When they pulled away she whispered in his ear “I want you, bless my soul.” Just then, their intimate moment was interrupted by their Uber’s arrival. As they got settled in the back seat Claire whispered in the dark, “So where we gonna go?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't that sweet? I am swooning over how thoughtful and ridiculously romantic Jamie is.


	10. Cornelia Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jamie spend a night in the city. The next day, Jamie has a rude awakening and eventually our lovers head to Broadway to see _Wicked_.
> 
> "We were a fresh page on the desk  
> Filling in the blanks as we go  
> As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead  
> Leading us home..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading, leaving kudos and commenting. Every time I get a notification is a small thrill and I really appreciate it. We have officially passed the half way point of this fic experiment!  
> If you didn't figure it out from the way the last chapter ended, this one is more than a bit smutty. Smut is at the beginning and end if that's something you try to avoid. Enjoy!

“I rented a place on Cornelia Street,” Jamie said casually in the car. “I was originally thinking since it’s early yet we could head to a bar down the street for a dram, but if you want to turn in for the night, I understand.” His blue eyes were twinkling with innuendo under the glow of passing streetlights.

“Hmm… I don’t think we need the assistance of alcohol tonight,” Claire raised her brow, catching his eye. “Unless you’re really set on it?”

“Nae, Sassenach, you’re more than enough for me.” he replied, stroking her thigh in the backseat. It was true, they were drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar. Now that the full force and truth of their love was unleashed, they were both in a state of anticipatory ecstasy. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other during the 15 minute Uber ride back to the subway station to pick up their bags and head to Manhattan. Neither of them could wait to get the other alone, enveloped in the privacy of the AirBnb. It was as if the streetlights pointed in an arrowhead leading them home.

They stepped out onto the sidewalk, Claire leading, eager to get to their destination. She turned around before she hit the subway tunnel, grabbing Jamie and wrapping her arms around his neck. They kissed passionately on the sidewalk, bodies pressed close, the promise of more a mere subway ride away.

\----------

Jamie and Claire emerged from underground just three blocks away from their destination. The nighttime autumn air was bringing a chill and a smattering of raindrops was starting to fall from the sky. Jamie draped his jacket around Claire’s shoulders, noticing that she was wrapping her arms close to her chest. Her smile lit up at the gesture. Although the warmth of their love should have, in theory, been strong enough to keep them warm, it was undeniable that the seasons were changing and winter was headed to New York.

By the time they arrived on Cornelia street, the rain had turned to a downpour and they found themselves running down the street, hand in hand to get to the warmth and privacy of their weekend abode. They dashed down the street until they stood before a building that appeared to be an old fashioned carriage house. Jamie punched some numbers into a keypad beside a side door and they heard a click as it unlocked. They scrambled through the open door and climbed up two flights of stairs where they were met with another door. Another code was entered and the door opened to reveal a spacious and airy apartment, well-appointed with cozy antique furniture and rugs, ornate light fixtures, modern artwork, and plenty of houseplants thriving among large, floor-to-ceiling windows. They were soaked through, their clothes clinging to their bodies. They dropped their bags on the floor as they entered.

“I’m freezing!” Claire squealed, reluctantly slipping Jamie’s jacket off her shoulders and slipping it on a hook by the door. She kicked off her shoes and scurried through the apartment towards what she hoped was a bedroom. Jamie found the thermostat on the wall near the dining area and turned it up higher than he normally would--but his Sassenach was cold and he wasn’t paying the bill. The heat kicked on quickly and the apartment began to fill with warm air. Jamie followed Claire into the bedroom and found it empty. He did however, notice a large armoire with a hidden gas fireplace (luckily he had read about this on the AirBNB website before booking), and took a moment to open it and turn the fireplace on. He then slipped around the corner towards the adjacent bathroom and stopped short at the sight before him. Claire had stripped off her wet clothing and was draping it over the shower rod in the bathroom to dry. Jamie caught a generous view of her backside glimpsing her through the bathroom doorway where he stood, taking in her beauty.

“I bless the rains on Cornelia Street” he lauded reverently, peeling off his own soaked shirt and guiding himself behind her, reaching over her head to drape his shirt next to hers, he moved his hands down her body slowly, settling them on her hips and pulling her close to him.

“Do you need help with those wet pants?” she hummed, turning her head towards him with a mischievous grin.

“Aye, that’d be bonny” Jamie replied. Claire turned around and put her hands on his chest, running them down to the waistband of his jeans. She unlatched his belt and slid it through the belt loops, tossing it aside where it landed with a thud on the bathroom floor. She crouched down to unbutton and unzip his fly, keeping her eyes locked on his face the entire time. She felt his hardness beneath her hands as she carried out her task. She slowly wriggled his jeans down to the floor and he stepped out of them. She picked them up off the floor, exaggerating her movements to give Jamie a full view of her arse, playfully leading him on a path there would be no going back from as she lifted them to the curtain rod, pressing her posterior against the rapidly growing bulge in his boxer briefs. “Why Mr. Fraser, I do believe despite the chill you are quite excited.”

“As if the sight of your arse in those jeans all day wasn’t enough to give a man a cock stand, to see it in its full glory… Christ Sassenach.” He’d had enough of her playing games, and spun her around to face him again, kissing her passionately as he scooped up handfuls of her arse, pulling her even closer to him. She slipped her fingers into the waistband of his underwear, edging them down gently with no small effort as they were wet from the rain. Once, they were also discarded on the floor, Jamie scooped her up effortlessly, hoisting her onto his hips as she wrapped her legs around his torso. They continued kissing, tongues dancing to steps only they knew, as he carried her into the bedroom and laid her down sideways on the end of the bed atop a soft, plush blanket, directly across from the fireplace. “Whatd’ya say I warm ya up Sassenach?” he growled as they came up for air.

“Mmmmhmm” was all she could muster out in response. The heat from the fireplace was already doing a good job of warming her, but she had a feeling it had more to do with being cradled in her Scots arms. He tented himself over her, rubbing his length over her folds, caressing her arms until gooseflesh arose. Planting hungry kisses on her neck and down her clavicle to her breast. He suckled ravenously, taking her soft pillow to his mouth, squeezing it reverently to his cheek before moving to the other breast as she bit her lip, taking in the sensation. When her wee noises indicated she couldn’t take his teasing anymore, he guided himself into her.

They gave themselves to each other fully, heart, body, mind and soul. It was a sacred new beginning for them after all they had said to each other just a few hours before. Jamie suddenly understood all that the church had taught him about marriage and sexuality. Although he and Claire were not yet wed, he realized the sacrament of marriage was not in the ceremony, but in the joining he and Claire were experiencing in this holy space. This was becoming their religion, he was worshipping the God who created this woman just for him and brought her to him safely. He also knew in this moment he could never again be parted from her. Each thrust was a commitment, to keep her safe, to love her, to see to her needs, to take care of her, to protect her from harm. He made these promises to her and himself silently, affirming each with a grunt to match her moans. He would make these commitments publically in a church someday, before God and loved ones, but for now they would stay in his head in the quiet of the room filling with nothing but the sounds of their heavy breaths and cries of pleasure. As he led them home with a final few thrusts, he cried out, “I love you, Claire. God, I love you.”

Jamie kissed Claire’s nose sweetly as they lay, wrapped in each other's arms, panting in post-coital bliss. “Now, I’m warm!” Claire exclaimed. She was flushed red, not only from what had just happened.

“Aye, so am I” Jamie agreed. The combination of forced air heat blasting from a nearby vent and the fireplace had made the room feel sultry and warm while Claire and Jamie were otherwise occupied. He was glistening with sweat, still above her, he rolled over and off the bed, and swung the window wide open, allowing the crisp autumn air to cool their skin. Claire rose to join him near the window, which looked out on an alleyway towards a brick wall. She wrapped her arms around him, bending her curls into the crook of his neck where she fit just right.

“I love you too, Jamie Fraser.” She said in a low voice as she kissed his shoulder. “Come back to bed.” She stepped away towards the bed, tugging at his hand. He cocked one eyebrow, staring intently at her.

“To bed, or to sleep?” he questioned. Claire simply eyed him with a mischievous grin and continued to lead him to the bed.

\----------

Jamie, as he did the last time Claire told him she loved him, stayed awake with excitement into the wee hours of the night, softly stroking Claire’s curls and imagining their future together. Their future was a fresh page on the desk, and they’d fill in the blanks as they went, but he was certain that this was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Sleep took Claire much more quickly, worn out from a day of carousing around the city and a night of passionate lovemaking. Due to her restful sleep, Claire woke when sunlight started creeping into the room. She slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, tiptoeing through the room so as not to disturb Jamie. Much to her dismay, she stepped on a creaky floorboard, wishing she had memorized its location the night before. She paused, taking in the sight of Jamie's limp form on the bed. He was still fast asleep, smiling slightly and Claire paused a bit longer than she intended to, taking in the sight of him, so peaceful and serene, and all hers.

Claire continued into the kitchen, barefoot and started searching the cupboards to see if there was anything edible. She might have suggested they stop for groceries the night before, but her appetite was focused solely on a different set of urges at the time. She opened the fridge, but all that was inside was a Brita pitcher of water and a bottle of champagne--a rather expensive one--already opened, with a note on it that read: _the last guests left this the other night, it’d be a shame to throw it out, so feel free to help yourself!_ That would be a welcome treat this evening, or maybe even for mimosas this morning, but she needed sustenance and she had no doubt that Jamie had also worked up an appetite last night in his exertions. Her still-packed bag was on the floor in the hall where she left it last night, she grabbed it and snuck into the guest bathroom to don leggings and a sweatshirt, brush the morning breath from her teeth and wrangle her curls into a ponytail. She grabbed her purse and left Cornelia Street to grab supplies to make breakfast. She hoped to surprise Jamie and be back before he even knew she was gone.

\----------

Jamie awoke, reaching to pull Claire close to him, blindly feeling the empty sheets and pillow beside him. “Sassenach?” he called out into the empty room. There was no response. He reluctantly arose from the bed and walked towards the master bathroom, to see if she was there, but the door was open and Claire was not in there. He headed out into the living room--still no Claire--not in the kitchen or dining room either. He peeked out the window onto the small patio behind the apartment, which was also empty. Where could she be? He went to the hallway to retrieve his phone from his bag, where he had left it last night and his heart sank low as he realized his was the only one in the hallway. His face felt hot and he felt something deep within him shatter. _Not again. Please don’t leave me. I don’t wanna lose you._ He unlocked his phone, hoping for a message from her, some sort of explanation, a family emergency even, _anything_ that would explain why she had left him the morning after saying “I love you” yet again. She seemed so genuine, so sure since their reunion. He felt so certain of her love this time around--last night he could have sworn their souls were aligned. He dialed her number, maybe she didn’t have time to send him a message. It rang and rang before her voicemail message responded _Hey it’s Claire, leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can._ Was this the last he would hear of her voice? He hung up, unable to leave a message, his throat was caught holding back tears, they were welling behind his eyes as his mind tried to work through any possible explanation where Claire still loved him. He ran a hand through his curls, pacing the floor as he thought about what his next move should be. He walked around the apartment again, looking for a sign, a note, glancing out every window, peering out to the street below, searching for her, but she was long gone.

He stooped in the hallway to his bag and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt and put them on, slipping out of the apartment and ascending the stairs to the rooftop patio. He hadn’t told Claire about it, and it was far too rainy last night to show her, but maybe she went exploring and discovered it on her own. _With her bag, ya dafty? Face it, she’s gone, she played you like a card shark again, you eejit._ When he found the rooftop empty as well he couldn’t hold back the tears anymore.

He rushed back to the apartment, where he could sob freely away from anyone who might see. In his personal opinion, there was nothing unmanly about letting your feelings out with a good cry, but it was still embarrassing to be seen in such a state, regardless of gender. He collapsed on the couch and pulled his phone out to try and text Claire. The last text she’d sent him, a small pink heart emoji just a day ago, appeared on his screen and his throat caught again. _Oh Claire, what did I do?_ He tried to compose a text: _Claire, I’m sorry, please come back to me._ No, too desperate, he hit the back arrow and watched the message disappear. _Claire, I noticed you’re gone, I’m sure you didn’t mean anything by it. Call me._ No, that wasn’t right either. _Hey._ No, if something was wrong that was too unfeeling. Maybe this would be easier if his mind wasn’t spiraling so much.

He wondered what time the bar down the street opened, he could use a dram or two to take the edge off. It was only just after 9:00, surely they wouldn’t be open for several hours, especially on a Sunday morning. He began pacing the apartment again, unable to keep still. The last time this had happened, he found refuge in a church, but the thought of crying out to God (and likely physically crying) amongst the Sunday Mass crowd in an unfamiliar church told him that wasn’t a good idea just now. Besides, he was angry with God. _How could ya? How could ya take her away from me again? After I told ya I was committed to her, after I promised I’d cherish and keep her. How could you let her back into my life just so I could see her go again? It’s not right, it’s not fair, there’s only so much a man can take!_

He went to the kitchen to get some water, and when he opened the fridge, he noticed a bottle of champagne with a note encouraging him to help himself. _Don’t mind if I do._ He desired something stronger, but it would have to do. He uncorked the bottle and took a large swig. If he cared for more than the emotion numbing power of alcohol right now, he would have noticed it was the best champagne he’d ever tasted, but all he could think about was how the entire bottle could possibly be enough to shut down his thoughts. As he took his second swig, he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out and felt a rush of emotion as a picture of Claire lit up the screen.

“Claire!” he shouted into the phone in a desperate voice.

“Jamie, I’m sorry I just saw you called, I guess I didn’t feel my phone in my purse.”

“Where are you? Is everything alright?” he was trying to hide the panic in his voice.

“I’m outside, I don’t know the code to get in”

A wave of relief washed over Jamie and he let out a breath he’d been holding. “Oh, it’s 79438.”

“Seven... nine… four… three... eight…” she repeated, Jamie could hear each number beep through the phone as she punched them into the keypad. “Be right up, see you in a minute!”

His heart was pounding with joy and relief. He left the champagne bottle on the counter and ran to the bathroom to splash water on his face, hoping to hide evidence of his tears. He would feel silly if Claire were to know how he reacted. He rushed back to the door of the apartment, opening it to greet her as she came up the last few steps, a reusable bag branded with the name of a nearby market in her hand. He pulled her to him as soon as they were back in the apartment and kissed her passionately.

“What was that for?” she inquired breathlessly when they pulled away.

“I just missed ya is all.” he replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“Remind me to leave more often” she giggled. She noticed the look on his face when she said that, he didn’t look amused by her joke at all. “Are you alright?” she asked. She also noticed that the skin around his eyes looked puffy and swollen.

“I’m fine, Sassenach.”

She took in his appearance, not quite believing him, something was off about his demeanor. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he replied bashfully, running his fingers through his hair with one hand and nervously tapping his leg with the other. Claire raised an eyebrow, silently imploring him to continue. “It’s just that… weill, I noticed your bag was gone… and so I thought mebbe ye’d left me again.” he chuckled nervously, “It’s silly I know.”

“Oh, Jamie, no!” It was her turn to throw her arms around him. “I’m so sorry! I changed in the spare bathroom and left my bag there. I didn’t want to wake you; I was trying to surprise you with breakfast but there was no food here! Just champagne.” She held up the bag in her hand to show him.

“Aye, I noticed that myself.” he said, following her into the kitchen.

“Oh, I see you’ve started without me” noting the open bottle on the counter, she pulled a jug of orange juice out of the shopping bag “you know mixing this with orange juice makes day drinking more socially acceptable.” she chuckled, trying to clear the air with humor.

“It wasna really doing the trick anyway, mimosas sound great. Sassenach.” he drew her close again and planted a kiss on her forehead.

\----------

After a leisurely breakfast they dressed for the show. Even Though it was a matinee, it was still an excuse to dress up and Claire had purchased a new dress for the occasion--a flowy low cut wrap dress in a perfectly ‘wicked’ shade of green. She decided to get ready in the guest bathroom, wanting Jamie to take in the full picture once she was all ready. Jamie got ready in the en suite, slicking his hair back and donning a black suit with black shirt. After taming her curls into what she hoped were sexy waves, and applying a smoky eye, she was ready. She stepped into the living room, where Jamie was already waiting, he rose from the couch upon her entrance and was looking better than she thought possible in his suit. They had similar reactions to each other--breaths caught, eyes stared, taking one another in, lingering long enough to be uncomfortable if it were anyone else. Jamie spoke first, crossing the room as if drawn to her by a magnet, “Are ya mad, woman? I can see every inch of you, right down to your third rib!” He scolded playfully, making it known exactly how wild the sight before him was driving him.

Claire hummed a laugh in response, “you cannot!” she replied flirtatiously. “Do you like it?” she exaggerated the sway of her hips as she approached him, causing the dress to float through the room dramatically.

“Like it? I reckon ya could wear a plastic bag around ya and I’d like it, but this…” he took both of her hands and took a step back, taking her in again. “You look phenomenal, Sassenach. I’m not sure I can control myself around you all day.”

She gave him a wicked smile, pulled him close and whispered a sultry bargain in his ear “If you’re on your best behavior today, I’ll let you see what I have on underneath.” she turned around coyly and headed towards the door to get her purse and jacket.

_Christ, this woman will be the death of me._ Jamie thought, as he tried to think of something, anything else that would help to stop the blood from rushing to his nether region. He stepped into the bathroom to splash water on his face for the second time that day, careful not to mess up his coiffed hair and met Claire at the door. Now that she had her coat on, it was easier to control his impulses, but God, he wanted her.

\----------

Claire was enraptured by _Wicked_. Even Jamie’s hand frequently caressing her thigh wasn’t enough to distract her from the sights before them. The tickets Jamie had won were center orchestra seats and it was delightful to see the sparkling costumes and set pieces so close. If Claire was lucky enough to attend a Broadway musical she was usually up in a top corner balcony seat, which did have the benefit of taking in the whole stage at once, but it paled in comparison to this.

She couldn’t help but cry during the song “I’m Not That Girl”--the actress did an incredible job of conveying emotion and Claire recalled how she felt just a month prior. _Don’t dream too far, don’t lose sight of who you are, don’t remember that rush of joy._ She had convinced herself that since Jamie wasn’t a part of the plan, he didn’t belong with her, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. With every dream and memory of him during their separation, she filled with more and more regret. Jamie noticed her sniffles and gently stroked her hand, bringing it to lips briefly to kiss her knuckles. She felt his unspoken promise, _you are that girl._

Her musings continued when the opening lines of “As Long as You're Mine” started: _kiss me too fiercely, hold me too tight, I need help believing you’re with me tonight._ Her heart broke as she thought about the sight of Jamie’s puffy eyes in the AirBNB that morning. Knowing her responsibility for the doubt that she had planted in his heart, that their time apart was her fault. She knew now that they were solid--but could he? Could he ever fully trust her again? She firmly vowed to make it up to him in whatever way she could. The crescendo of the song built up, increasing in passion and intensity as the actors pressed their fully clothed bodies against each other, staring into each other’s eyes. How, painted green and in a long sleeve full length dress, Elphaba could convey such clear implications of sex, she did not know. Claire was more keenly aware of Jamie’s hand stroking her thigh, making its way painfully close to where she truly wanted to be stroked. When the music faded, Elphaba confessed to feeling _wicked_ and kissed her lover passionately, the final payoff to the slow burn of the song. Claire made eye contact with Jamie, and she knew they both had little else on their mind than each other. Thank God they were half way through the second act, it would be hard to hold back much longer, and she didn’t want to be _that couple_ caught with hands down each other’s pants in a sold out Broadway theater. For now, they would have to content themselves with stroking each other’s thighs.

The conclusion of the play was an emotional roller coaster. Claire couldn’t help but notice the parallel in her own life to the story of Elphaba--being cast out by the society she found herself in, ostracized and called names that stung even though there was some truth to them. Claire, like Elphaba, didn’t make the best choices in how she had behaved the previous spring, and had so suffered more consequences than she may have otherwise. Jamie was attuned to Claire’s feelings throughout, knowing when he needed to grip her hand tightly, or gently stroke her thumb, when to wipe a tear from her cheek, or kiss her knuckles softly. During curtain call Claire stood, enraptured, beaming and clapping furiously as each set of actors took a bow, wondering if they could see from the stage how much she enjoyed it.

Jamie too applauded enthusiastically, he thoroughly enjoyed the show finding it to be an emotionally poignant production and entertaining spectacle all at once. Most of all, he enjoyed seeing Claire’s enjoyment. She seemed so happy, so unrestrained, and _he_ was partially responsible for it. Feelings of admiration and pride swirled around his wame, but mostly of love and gratitude. He was so grateful that Claire was the woman by his side. He didn’t know how he could live without her. The scare he had that morning made him more keenly aware of it. He was terrified of her walking away again. He was so glad she had called and showed her true hand that morning. As he stroked her leg in a dark theater all he could think was _I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends. That’s the kind of heartbreak time could never mend._

They followed the crowd out of the theater and onto the streets of New York. Jamie was mystified by how the city seemed to scream Claire’s name, everything he saw made him think of her. He wanted to bring her everywhere--to the tops of all the tall buildings, the nicest restaurants, walks in the park, curbside hot dog stands, corner diners--everywhere big and small. Simultaneously, he wanted nothing more than to walk her back to that apartment and ravish her until she cried out his name. He _did_ have dinner reservations at a nearby restaurant, but the thought of staring across a table at her cleavage in that dress, unable to do anything about it was not nearly as appealing as the thought of peeling it off her. The way she kept touching him, he had a feeling she had something similar in mind.

“So.” he stated matter-of-factly. “The plan is to get dinner at a spot around the corner.” He studied her reaction to his words and thank Christ for her glass face, he saw a twinge of disappointment that emboldened him to continue. “However, plans can be amended and if ya think you’d rather get back to Cornelia Street sooner…” The glass face perked up. “We could order takeaway and pick it up on the way back.”

“Takeaway sounds divine, what are you in the mood for?” he was keenly aware of the double meaning of her words--she was using that low, sultry voice that drove him wild.

He pulled her close, growling in her ear “you know exactly what I’m in the mood for, Ms. Beauchamp.” he sucked her earlobe, and trailed a line of wet, passionate kisses down her neck.

“So, Thai food then?” she eyed him coyly.

“Aye, that sounds bonny” Jamie pulled out his phone, first calling to cancel their reservation, then looking to Google with Claire to find a Thai place in the village with good reviews they could pick food up at. Once their food was ordered, he held her hand on the street and led her back to Cornelia Street.

\----------

Once they were just inside the apartment, Jamie set the takeout on the floor and immediately pressed Claire against the closed door and took her fiercely to his mouth, pawing at the buttons on her coat, trying miserably to get it off her. Claire pressed her palm against his chest, gasping for air she pushed him back to arm’s length. He blinked, bewildered. She made eye contact with him as she tugged at the knot in the waistband of her coat, untying it. She then unbuttoned each button, painfully slow, taking her time with each one well he gazed intensely, breath heavy. Once she finished her task she slipped the coat off her shoulders allowing it to fall to the floor behind her. Jamie was back on her in an instant, planting kisses on her neck and down, down, down. He nuzzled himself between her breasts, kissing, sucking and playfully biting the soft flesh. His hands ran through her hair at first, then up and down her body settling on her arse which he kneaded and squeezed hungrily. Claire was already moaning and they were still fully clothed. She slipped his jacket from his shoulders, and he flung it behind him as quickly as possible in order to return his hands to her hind quarters. She began to make dexterous work of his shirt buttons as he lifted her thigh to his hip.

“Take me to bed” she breathlessly begged in his ear.

“Aye.” he lifted her other leg and walked backward into the apartment. Instead of heading to the bedroom, he took her to the living room, sitting on an oversized chaise lounge near the fireplace with Claire still on his lap, his face still buried in her fleshy pillows. She began to grind against him as he stroked her thighs, pushing the dress up to stroke the flesh underneath. He snaked his arm up her back, holding her firmly and turned her so she was lying on her back. “I’ve been wanting to take ya, right here, since I saw you walk inta the room this morning in that dress.”

“Hmm… is that so?” she hummed. “I believe I said I’d show you what’s underneath if you were behaved.”

“Aye, ya did. Was I a good boy then?”

“You” she confirmed, “were a _very_ good boy.” she tugged at the tie of the dress and allowed the fabric to fall off her body, spilling around her in a pool of green as she lay on the chaise. She thought Jamie’s eyes would pop out of their head the way he looked at her so intensely. She was wearing black lacy bodysuit with a neckline that plunged all the way to the waistband of the bottom part of it. “ _Now,_ you can see--what was it? My third rib?” she smirked.

“Aye. I see it, right about… here.” He planted a kiss under her breast. “ I wonder what else I can see” he tugged at the fabric, pleased to find it was stretchy and revealed her right breast. “Mmm… now that is a sight to behold. He wrapped his tongue around her nipple.

“I showed you, now what do you have to show me?” she bit her lower lip and eyed him coyly.

“Fair’s fair I suppose.” He slipped his shirt off easily, as Claire had already unbuttoned it for him and let it drop to the floor. Standing, he slowly unbuckled his belt and slipped it through each individual belt loop. He wanted her, but he also wanted payback for the show she made of her buttons in the entryway. He made similar work of the button on his fly, and then inched the zipper down, painfully slow. He slid his thumbs into his waistband and nudged his pants down, swaying his hips in an exaggerated motion as he peeled them down slowly.

Claire was eyeing him with a desperate hunger and a naughty glint in her eye, biting her lower lip with anticipation. She decided to join him in the tease, sitting up and slipping her body suit off one shoulder slowly. She then made a show of the other side, peeling it off carefully so as not to expose her breast until the last possible second. They were playing a dangerous game, eyeing each other hungrily as they fought their own desires in order to tease each other. Claire stood before Jamie, the lower part of her bodysuit still covering the place where she was rapidly growing aroused. His arousal was still covered as well, although it was apparent through the fabric. They slipped their thumbs into each other’s waistbands, ridding themselves of the last stitches of clothing between them.

“I think you said something about taking me right here?” she inquired demurely.

“Aye.” he growled, and he did just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jamie! That we bit of angst he went through broke my heart to write. He loves her so much. Hopefully all the smut made up fo it. More smut next week as it seems these two can't keep their hands off each other!


	11. I Forgot That You Existed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire runs into someone from her past, which becomes a catalyst for some important decisions to be made. This allows Jamie to finally introduce Claire to his family.
> 
> "I forgot that you existed  
> And I thought that it would kill me, but it didn't  
> And it was so nice  
> So peaceful and quiet..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading. I had every intention of this being a very short chapter, but Claire had other plans and made some important life choices instead, so now it's one of the longest chapters I've written! A lot of important things are happening!
> 
> There's a few instances of smut in this chapter (the first being at the very beginning) if that's something that bothers you; I'm sorry these two won't stop! I'm going to have to seperate them.

****

Jamie woke up to the morning light creeping into the bedroom. This time when he reached for Claire beside him she was there. He drew her naked body close to his, spooning her gently and kissing her head as she hummed sleepily. As she started to blink her eyes open she noticed his growing erection pressed against her buttocks. “Well good morning to you too, Mr. Fraser, Jamie Jr.” she greeted, pressing against him harder.

He grunted a distinctly Scottish noise of sleepy wanting and began kissing her neck. “Mmm…” he groaned. “Jamie Jr. wants to say hullo to ya”

She chuckled, rolling over to turn towards him, “He didn’t say enough to me last night?” she raised an eyebrow coyly, lifting one leg over his legs.

“Och! That was hours ago, seems he misses ya.” he said, continuing to craft the story of Jamie Jr. “He gets chilly in the morning, ya ken? Needs ya to warm him up.”

“Mmm… I’d be much obliged to help him, wouldn’t want him left out in the cold.” she positioned her hips towards his erection, ready to guide him in. He entered her, and they rocked together, eyes locked, stealing languid kisses from time to time. They moved slowly, building up their pleasure, enjoying the closeness of their bond. It was so nice, so peaceful and quiet in the early morning light of the room. The slow movement was really getting to Claire, Jamie’s pelvic bone was perfectly situated so that it was consistently rubbing against her clit, slowly pleading with her to come to the edge of her pleasure. With each stroke her breathing rate increased and she began to whimper and moan as he thrusted. Finally, she shattered around him, crying out his name into the glow of the bedroom. God, he loved the sound of his name on her lips. He saw this as an invitation to increase his speed, rolling on top of her to bring himself home easily, encouraged by her pleasure.

\----------

Claire had gotten out of the shower, dressed, and dried her hair all while Jamie was still lingering in the bed, still completely nude, a sight to behold. “Get up you lazy bones! It’s bagel time!”

Jamie grunted, “Ya tired me out last night, Sassenach.” That wasn’t surprising, after they recovered from their lovemaking session on the chaise lounge, he took her against the wall on the way to the bedroom, and they had made love a third time after settling into bed. He stretched dramatically across the bed--he was a sight to behold and was sending her a clear message with his body language--he knew _exactly_ what he was doing. “Nice try, but my appetite is solely for Murray’s Bagels right now and I won’t be distracted until I get some. If you don’t get up soon I’m going without you!”

“Hmmpfff, at least I’d know where ya went this time.” he replied smugly.

“Actually, I could just pop out and grab them, if I call in the order before I leave it’ll just be a quick trip, I’ll be back by the time you’re out of the shower, _if_ you ever plan on getting out of bed.” She tossed a decorative pillow that had ended up on the floor at him playfully.

“Aye Sassenach, that’s a braw plan, I don’ wanna keep ya from yer wee bagels any longer.”

“Here’s the menu” she handed her phone to him. “Let me know what you want”

“Hmm… Omelets on a bagel, that sounds… different, but delicious all the same… McCann’s Irish oatmeal, definitely want to try some of that. I always say parritch is the best way to start the day”

“McCann? Wouldn’t that be Scottish, with the ‘Mc’ at the beginning?”

“Nae, Sassenach, that one’s the Irish Gaelic.”

“Oh I didn’t realize they had ‘Mc’s’ too.”

“Spoken like a true Sassenach” he teased, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’ll teach ya a lesson later about how to tell a Scot from an Irish man.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” She smiled knowingly. “Have you decided what you want yet?”

“Aye, I’ll have the Western Omelet on a Bagel, McCann’s Oatmeal, and… a black and white for dessert.”

“Well, _you_ certainly worked up an appetite last night, sir, anything to drink?”

“Aye, I’ll have a cappuccino if it's no’ too much trouble.”

“None at all darling, I’ll call it in now.”

\----------

The second Claire stepped into the small bagel shop, the nostalgia of the purely delicious scent of fresh baked good wafting through the air caused her mouth to water with anticipation. She was excited to eat, but she also was excited to share the experience with Jamie. The picture of him lounging naked was still fresh in her mind and she could hardly wait to get back to him. It had only been a ten-minute walk, but she was glad she ordered ahead so she didn’t have to wait any longer. She approached the counter and spoke to the young hipster at the cash register, “Pick up for Claire?”

“That’ll be $33.86.” Claire inserted her card into the small white card reader as the cashier swiveled an iPad screen around for her to add a tip and sign. “Here’s your food, the drinks will be just a moment, we like to make them fresh”

She smiled. “Not a problem.”

“Claire?” she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she heard her name in a familiar, distinctly British voice that had once reminded her of her father, but now only felt cold. She hadn’t thought about Frank once this week, she’d all but forgot that he existed in recent months, her thoughts entirely occupied by Jamie. The fact that she had moved past him didn’t make it any easier to turn around and face him for the first time in months.

“Frank!” she chuckled nervously, “Long time no see!”

“What brings you into the city?”

“Went to see _Wicked_ yesterday, thought we’d make a weekend out of it.” She wasn’t sure she should have used the pronoun _we_ , she didn’t want Frank to react to her being with Jamie, it was a touchy subject between the two of them. Hopefully he would assume she was with Jo and not brooch the subject any further.

“Cappuccino and a Chai for Claire!” the barista shouted.

She turned back to the counter. “That’s me. Could I get a carrier for them?” The barista loaded them into a recycled cardboard carrier and handed it across the counter.

“Here you go. Have a great day!”

“Thanks, you too!”

Frank eyed her suspiciously, “Who’s the cappuccino for?” _Damn._ He remembered her order and apparently Jo’s as well. Jo was a vegan and of course wouldn’t order a creamy cappuccino, usually opting for black coffee instead.

“I’m not entirely sure that’s any of your business.” she replied coldly.

“It’s not that filthy Scot is it? Surely he’s not still around.”

She felt a fire rise up within her at his words. She no longer felt anything towards the man standing before her, not love, not hate, just indifference, but she _did_ love the man waiting for her several blocks away and hearing Frank insult him so casually caused something in her to snap.”

“ _Jamie_ is more of a man than you’ll ever be.” she hissed viciously. She continued in a low, cutting voice, she didn’t intend to cause a scene, but the fury welling up inside her had to be released. “He sees me in a way that you never could, he treats me better than you ever did. We’ve made love no less than four times in the past twenty-four hours and I might just go do it again. _He’s_ the best fuck I’ve ever had. He is more of a man than you’ll ever be in _every possible way_.” She knew her words were cutting deep, hurting his pride, his ego, his fragile masculinity, everything holding his identity together and she couldn’t care less. Frank had shown who he was and she had no reason to stand for his bullshit any longer. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get this cappuccino to him before it gets cold.” On that note, she stormed out of the shop leaving him dumbfounded, an embarrassed flush on his face, eyes darting around the shop suspicious of anyone who may have heard.

She took a deep inhale of the crisp fall air to calm her nerves. The initial surge of adrenaline she felt in seeing them had mingled with something else, something _empowering_ that was flowing through her veins _._ She strode the sidewalks with confidence, beaming with pride at finally telling Frank off. She thought that telling Frank about Jamie would kill her, but it didn’t. In fact, it had the opposite effect. How many days had she spent thinking about how he did her wrong? How much time had she wasted letting him live in her mind rent free? The first iteration of her and Jamie’s relationship she was constantly comparing the two, and Frank always came up short, but he was always there, lurking in the back of her mind, she couldn’t get away from him. She had been living in the shade Frank and his cronies were throwing until all her sunshine was near gone. Now, she felt free of that, she was ready to step out into the light and leave that part of her life behind her once and for all. Frank may have brought her reputation down, he may have tripped her up and left her on the ground, but he wouldn’t keep her down any longer. He taught her some hard lessons, and for that she was grateful, but she didn’t need to think about him anymore. She realized she had found herself and who she truly wanted to be and Jamie was the one who brought it out of her. She didn’t feel like she _needed_ him to have that sense of self, more that he _allowed_ her to be who she was unquestioningly. He drew out parts of her that she had long since hidden trying to be the ‘perfect woman’--whatever _that_ meant. Jamie absolutely left her tongue tied and giddy. She found herself in her feelings more than Drake, but their relationship went so much deeper than the infatuation it seemed to be at the beginning. Something happened one magical night, and she couldn’t even pinpoint exactly when, but she knew with great certainty that their love was unshakeable. She would stick around for him while he was gone. She would have fought the whole town, not just Frank, for him if she had to. She would be right there for him, no matter what. He was there for her when no one else was, (except Jo, steadfast friend that they were), and she would be the same.

\----------

She had gotten back to Cornelia St. quicker than she realized, lost in her thoughts and realized she had forgotten what the code to the door was--with everything that had happened in the last half hour, it was all just a blur. She had to call Jamie again for the numbers and she ascended the steps to the apartment, once again Jamie greeted her at the door. He was freshly showered and wearing just his pajama bottoms slung low on his hips and smelling strongly of some manly shower gel. His curls were still damp and his fair skin was flushed from the heat of the shower. God, he was attractive no matter what state he was in.

“Breakfast is served” she chimed as she handed him his cappuccino, walking to the dining room table to dig in.

“Thank ya, Sassenach” he kissed her, taking his bag of food from her and settling at the table to enjoy his portion.

There was so much Claire was bursting to tell him, but she didn’t know how to bring it up. She didn’t want to hide the fact that she had run into Frank, there was nothing to hide, but she didn’t want to kill her positive mood by upsetting Jamie either. She had also made two decisions on her walk: the first being that she no longer wanted to hide their relationship and the second, that she needed to move out of the house she co-owned with Frank as soon as possible. The first topic of conversation wouldn’t be difficult, but the second was more complicated. She had a feeling he wouldn’t mind moving in together under normal circumstances, but he was leaving and his apartment was owned by his sister. Jo’s apartment was almost as small as Jamie’s, but she didn’t think Jo would be as keen to let her share a bed.

 _First things first_ , she thought, sliding her phone out of her pocket with an exaggerated gesture, a coy smile on her face, holding the phone surreptitiously close to her body, glancing up to try to catch Jamie’s eye as he enjoyed his breakfast. Moments later, his phone on the table lit up. He glanced across the table curiously as he peered at the screen, a Facebook notification _Claire Beauchamp sent you a relationship request._

Jamie’s face flushed with joy. “What’s this?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow. The look on his face reminded Claire of a puppy who had just gotten a new toy.

“I’m done hiding.” She declared, a proud smile on her face.

“Really?” he lit up the room with his smile, his heart felt fit to burst, it took great restraint not to dive across the table and scoop her into his arms. She nodded in affirmation. “Oh Claire! I canna tell ya how happy I am ta hear it.”

“I’m glad” she was smiling, touched by his reaction as he accepted the request, adding the words _‘In A Relationship with Claire Beauchamp’_ permanently to his profile.

“What about Frank?”

“Funny you should mention that; I actually ran into him while I was out.”

“Oh Claire,” his face transformed, a look of concern on his brow and he reached across the table for her hand.

“I’m fine, I promise. Better than fine actually.” She flashed a satisfied grin, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I told him off. He called you a filthy Scot and I tore his stupid ego to pieces.” She was smirking, clearly proud of herself.

“I thank ye for defending my honor, milady.” He held her hand up, and leaned over the table to kiss it. “And I’m proud of ya for standing up to him, I know it couldna‘ve been easy. You’re a brave wee thing Claire, and ya make me so happy.” They sat in silence for a few moments, basking in the glow of their mutual feelings for one another.

“There’s one other thing” she put forward, much more hesitant than before.

“What is it, mo chridhe?”

“I have to move out of that house. Frank co-owns it and I want to cut my ties with him completely, but I’m not sure what to do, it’s been impossible to find a place of my own within my budget.”

“I could talk to Jenny about ya staying at my place while I’m gone, it’s not much, but I’m sure she’ll be happy that someone will keep the dust from gathering.”

“Really? You think she’d be ok with it?”

“I canna say for sure; my sister can be a fickle wee thing, but I’ll ask her.”

“Oh, Jamie, that would be perfect!”

\----------

Regardless of what Jenny ultimately said, they decided that Claire would spend the remainder of the week at Jamie’s before he had to fly back to England on Saturday. Jamie was elated to finally properly introduce Claire to his family as his girlfriend, and had a feeling Jenny would love Claire almost as much as he did. Jenny had already been blowing up his phone since the changed relationship status earlier that morning, and before they left the AirBnB he called her and it was decided that he would bring Claire over that later night. Jenny insisted on having a proper family dinner, and when Jamie nervously broached the subject with Claire, she eagerly accepted the invitation to his great relief.

“I _have_ met Jenny before.” she explained, recognizing his apprehension.

“Aye, but ya dinna think bringing ya home for dinner gives off ‘meet the parents’ vibes?”

“Hmm… perhaps you’re more nervous about this than I am. What kind of dirt does your sister have on you? I can’t wait to find out.” She smirked, hitting him lightly on the shoulder as they walked the city sidewalks, headed to their final destination on Jamie’s list before leaving the city. It was, of course, a carriage ride through Central Park. Claire couldn’t help but laugh at how cliché it was, but at the same time so fitting for the hopeless romantic Scotsman she’d found herself falling more and more in love with every moment.

On the carriage ride, Jamie filled Claire in on all the members of his family, although she already felt she knew them he spoke of them so often. She listened intently however, she’d always loved the way he spoke of his family, and he seemed nervous about how the evening would go and she knew talking about it would help ease him. He wanted everything to go smoothly, he knew Claire was special and he wanted Jenny to recognize it too. He had every intention of spending the rest of his life with her and that process would be a lot easier if Jenny welcomed her into the family wholeheartedly.

\----------

They spent most of the train ride home snuggled together, checking the myriad of notifications on their phones. Most were some iteration of the expression “What?!?” or eye emojis imploring for more information. Jamie’s thread had a few borderline lewd comments, and Claire’s had a few angry reacts from Frank’s crowd mixed in with the likes and ‘wow’ reactions. Jamie had a few “pics or it didn’t happen” comments and he asked Claire for permission to post the selfie they had taken that weekend. Gaining her consent, he uploaded the picture to Instagram with the caption: _Wonderful weekend in the city with my lass_ ❤️. He shared it to Facebook as well, tagging her. She felt that reoccurring swarm of butterflies again as she opened the notification and read his caption, musing on the words _my lass_ with that tiny red heart. He really did make her feel like a teenager again, every little expression of love making her giddy. It didn’t matter who thought poorly of their relationship, they couldn’t possibly understand and wouldn’t try. Nothing could crush her spirits now, their love was too strong, too powerful for her to care anymore. Their love was a solid anchor holding fast, neither wind nor waves could sweep them away into darkness so long as they had each other. It seemed there was no storm strong enough to sweep them away.

They arrived back at the train station on Long Island in the early afternoon; Jamie followed Claire back to her house so she could gather what she needed for the week. Jamie parked his car behind hers in the driveway and followed her in through the front door. It was strange that he hadn’t been here since the night they met, New Year’s Eve nearly a year ago. The house had been decorated extravagantly then, and now looked stark and barren by comparison. There didn’t seem to be any personal touches in the decor, it looked more like a home you’d see in a magazine or a music video.

“Are you sure it’s ok for me to be here?” he whispered reverently, as if they had just stepped into a mausoleum and not a large suburban foyer.

“Of course, it is _my_ house after all. At least half mine, and Frank hasn’t been here in months, he packed all his things and left for good it seems.”

“Is there still a bar downstairs?” he asked smoothly.

“It’s a little early for a drink, isn’t it Mr. Fraser? But yes, it’s still there, not as well stocked as it was when you were last here.” It had just dawned on Claire that Jamie hadn’t been here since the night they met. “Let’s have a look, shall we?” she said coyly as she led him to the finished basement.

“This is where we met.” she said, stating the obvious.

“I see ya have bar stools now.”

“Yes, though I can’t say I use them much,” she replied, resigned to the fact that her house was an empty shell of what it could have been.

“Still sitting on the bar then, Ms. Beauchamp?”

“Why, is that how you like your women?” She eyed him flirtatiously, backing into the bar and hoisting herself up.

“My women and my whiskey” he replied, approaching her and beginning to kiss her neck. “Mmm, ya looked so bonny that night, yer wee curls piled atop your head like a crown. Yer gorgeous legs dangling off the bar” speaking between kisses, he ran his hands up her thigh, wishing they were as bare as they had been that night, instead of denim clad as they were now. “I ken I wanted ya then, Claire, imagined running my hand up that dress of yours.” he pantomimed exactly what he had wanted to do, landing his palm on her fully clothed crotch.

Claire moaned, feeling warmer and warmer underneath his hand, also beginning to silently curse the fact that she’d worn jeans. “I wanted you then too, I know I shouldn’t have, but when I saw those hands around that whiskey glass,” she took his hand, the one that wasn’t on her jeans, to her mouth and sucked lightly on his index finger. “I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like on my body.”

“Aye? Whereabouts on yer body”

She moaned again, as restrictive as her jeans were starting to feel, there was something to be said about the friction the fabric was creating between his fingers and the center of her pleasure. “Mmm… right about where they are now.” she sighed again, as he caressed in just the right spot “only in my imagination, we weren’t wearing quite as much”

“Aye, mine too, but I think that can be arranged.” he unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, helping her wiggle out of them. Freed from her denim cage she spread her legs wide on the edge of the bar. “Christ Claire, this is better than I ever could have imagined. He pulled her shirt over her head, and then his own, and removed his own jeans before returning his mouth to her skin. Her position atop the bar brought her breasts right to his eye level, spilling out of a lacy green bra in perfect contrast to her milky skin. He brought his palms to them, massaging them and drawing them close as he planted kisses along her neck. “Dija imagine my hands here, Sassenach?”

“Mmm… yes.” He continued his trail of kisses, moving down her breasts, sucking her nipples through the thin fabric as she continued to whimper and moan. She had been running her fingers through his hair, tugging at the curls, and removed one hand to unclasp her bra behind her back, freeing her breasts for him to devour with his lips and tongue, which he did eagerly. He moved one hand from her breast down her torso, and thrust it into the waistband of her matching lacy panties.

“And ye definitely imagined my hand here, aye?” he asked, stroking her clit vigorously.

“Yes! Jamie!” she cried out, panting with need and desire. He continued to stroke small circles around that bundle of nerves until she was begging for more, “Please, Jamie” she gasped.

“Mmmm, what?” he inquired, clearly enjoying teasing her.

“I want you inside me,” she moaned, pulling at the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“No.” he replied, brushing her hand aside.

“No?” she inquired, a bit wounded, hoping she’d misheard.

“No mo nighean donn,” he responded, thrusting a finger inside her as she gasped, his thumb taking over the dexterous work of stroking her clit, “I want ta watch you.”

All Claire could do was moan in response, and he continued pleasuring her, watching intently for every flinch of her face, enjoying every whimper that escaped her swollen lips. He wanted to be able to picture her exactly like this when he was gone, gasping his name in the low light. He took it all in as he finally brought her over the edge of her pleasure, the way her wild curls flew back as she cried out his name in pure, orgasmic bliss. This is the picture he wanted of her always in his mind during their time apart--he committed every inch of her to memory as he gently nursed her through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

\----------

The atmosphere of the Murray house was warm and inviting. The smell of something delicious and savory wafted through the air. It was a stark contrast to the home Claire had just left behind. Where her walls were bare and unpainted, the walls of the foyer were covered in a cornflower blue damask wallpaper, scuffed and scratched in places, cluttered with picture frames and children's drawings taped on askew at intervals. Where Claire’s honey colored faux wood floors were neat, polished and clutter-free, the dark wooden floorboards of the front hall of their farmhouse was rustically weathered with age, had piles of shoes spilling over near the door and stray toys along the baseboards. Deafening silence awaited Claire upon her arrival home each night, but here, the sounds of life could be heard everywhere as if the walls themselves were vibrating with it. Laughter of children could be heard from somewhere far upstairs, or perhaps downstairs? Claire couldn’t tell, but it was a beautiful sound to her after living in silence for so long.

“Jenny, Ian, we’re here!” Jamie shouted through the house.

“Uncle Jamieeeee!” a small girl with brown pigtails came bounding through the hallway, throwing herself at him, followed instantly by two boys, one around middle school age, the other quite a bit younger, lingering around his legs, vying for his attention.

“Maggie, Michael, Young Jamie! Och! I’ve only been gone a wee couple a days!”

“Uncle Jamie! Ma says if I do all my schoolwork this week we can play video games all night Friday night!”

“Uncle Jamie, come look at the picture I drawed!”

“Uncle Jamie, can we play race car drivers?”

Jamie felt himself being pulled into the vortex of the house, and Claire stood awkwardly in the small foyer, unsure of what to do. Another small little girl had appeared, younger than the first, wide-eyed and staring at Claire from a doorway down the hall. She tugged on her uncle’s shirt. “What is it Kitty my girl?” Claire didn’t hear her reply, but she must have elicited that it was confidential information, because Jamie knelt down on one knee and she cupped her tiny hands around his ear to whisper into them.

“Who’s that pretty lady?” she whispered, softly enough that only Jamie could hear; Claire could only see the smile that stretched across his whole face in reaction, catching her eye across the hall.

“Kids, I’d like ya to meet Miss Claire.” he announced, reaching out his hand to beckon her towards them. The sight made Claire’s breath catch briefly, and for a moment, there were no children, no toys strewn about, no scratches in the wallpaper. Just Jamie, blue eyes locked on hers, down on one knee, holding her left hand. She couldn’t help but to imagine him in this exact position, asking her to spend the rest of their lives together and that thought didn’t scare her anymore. In fact, it was something she hoped for in the depths of her heart. She realized she’d been standing there gawking at him for a few moments too long after he’d introduced her and broke contact to look at all the children Jamie had just introduced, having already forgotten their names, save young Jamie which was easy to remember for obvious reasons.

“Pleased to meet all of you” she smiled warmly at the children, “thank you for allowing me into your home.” The littlest girl tucked herself bashfully behind her uncle’s now-standing legs, peering out from behind them to smile at Claire.

The little girl with the pigtails, evidently less shy, approached Claire and extended her hand, “Pleased to meet you too” she said, mimicking Claire’s tone as best she could as Claire accepted her hand shake. “You’re very pretty. Are you Uncle Jamie’s girlfriend?” Claire couldn’t help but blush and smile at the question, turning to Jamie, she saw his face had a similar expression. She silently asked his permission to answer the question and he gave a subtle nod of assent.

“Yes, yes I am” she said. Saying it out loud felt even more refreshing than updating her Facebook status earlier had made her feel. That giddy teenager feeling was once again at the forefront of her conscience, giving her a solid foundation and the courage to face whatever the days, weeks, and months ahead of her would bring.

They followed the children into a small playroom cluttered with every kind of toy imaginable. Colorful drawers and large shelves showed an attempt at organization, but there seemed to be no system the children were capable of following and toys, books, games and dress up clothes were strewn about throughout the room. The children vied for their Uncle’s attention, and those who were less shy included Claire, eager to show all their favorite toys and explain their imagined lives to someone new.

“Kid’s! Wash yer hands, it’s time for supper!” Jenny’s voice bellowed from the kitchen. Jamie helped encourage the children to heed their mother, delicately playing both sides to convince them how awful their mother would be if they didn’t, simultaneously making it a competition to see who could get their hands the cleanest. Claire played along as best she could, admiring how good Jamie was with the children. He would make a great father someday. Picturing her with his own brood of red-headed children filled her heart with a radiant joy that traveled through her chest, and deep into her gut. Perhaps it was too soon to think about it, but she imagined herself carrying his children, giving him that gift, the warm smile he would have at becoming a father. He could see him tossing a giggling toddler in the air, kissing boo-boos, wiping away tears, reading bedtime stories. The thought was enough to bring her to tears, as she stood there observing him lost in a daydream, a goofy smile plastered on her face, blushing at how far she’d let her thoughts carry her away, hoping her glass face wouldn’t give away too much.

They headed into the dining room and settled at the Murray’s large dining room table. A man with a fair complexion and kind eyes limped into the room with the help of a cane held in one hand, carrying a child who couldn’t have been more than a year old in his other arm. He lifted her into a high chair beside the head of the table.

“Claire, this is my best friend and brother-in-law, Ian, and of course, wee Janet.” Jamie said, gesturing towards Ian with one hand and using the other to tousle the baby’s fine hair.

Claire rose from her seat and extended a hand to Ian. “Pleased to meet both of you.”

“Welcome, Claire!” Ian said, taking her hand in both of his and shaking it warmly “So glad ta finally meet the lass responsible for the goofy smile that’s been plastered on Jamie’s face for some time!” he teased.

“Och! ‘twas worse than when ya started dating my sister, need I remind you! Were practically running into the walls yer heid was so far up in tha clouds.” Jamie retorted good-humoredly.

Claire was loving every moment spent inside the walls of the Murray household. The love of family seemed to spring out of the very woodwork of the happy home and Claire was so glad to know that Jamie had such a large and loving family to spend time with when he was so far from home. She liked Ian immediately, and was also pleased that Jamie had such an amiable best friend he could be himself around--and one who got to join his family to boot! The light-hearted and loving atmosphere gave her a warm feeling, like the kind she got watching cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies. She felt wistful that she had never really had such a sense of family in her life. She never really knew what she was missing, but now that she saw it for herself, it was something she desperately wanted for herself and she hoped the Murray’s wouldn’t mind taking her in as one of their own so she could enjoy this feeling again and again.

A short, dark haired woman with severe features and piercing eyes walked into the room, carrying a large roast which she placed in front of Ian to carve. Claire was surprised at how small Jenny was, she hadn’t noticed it as much when they were both seated at young Ian’s football game, and the way her voice bellowed through the house calling for her children, she had imagined her to be much larger. Her presence certainly commanded more space than her stature would imply. Jamie stood up as Jenny entered, “Jenny, you remember Claire, from young Ian’s football game, right?” He placed his hand on the small Claire’s back, proudly beaming as he presented the love of his life to his dear sister.

“Nice to see ya again Claire, glad my brother’s finally stopped hiding ya away in the garage.” she raised an eyebrow and Claire wasn’t sure what to make of the expression.

“Can I help you with anything?” Claire asked, she was nervous and desperately wanted to make a good impression on Jenny.

“Aye, why don’t ya come help me carry the sides in.” Claire caught Jamie’s eye, and he gave her silent reassurance that she’d be alright, and she followed Jenny into the kitchen.

“So yer the lass who spent naer every night this summer in my brother’s flat without so much as a word from him about ya.”

“It was--I--” Claire hesitated, wondering how best to explain herself.

Jenny, however, continued on, “It’s not any of my business what my brother decides to do, or who he decides to entertain; that’s his space and as long as he keeps his intimate relations out in the garage and away from my children I’m fine with it. I’m sure ya have yer reasons for hiding away, and I don’t ken enough about ya to ken if they’re honorable or not, but I do ken ya make my brathair happier than I’ve seen him in a long time, and I’m grateful for that.” Claire smiled in response to that, ready to respond that Jamie made her just as happy, if not more, but Jenny wasn’t finished. “I also ken something happened last month that makes me feel inclined not tae trust ya so much. He tried to hide it--well enough that the bairns didn’t notice, but I ken my brathair and he was a shell of a man for near on a month. It seems Jamie’s willing to forgive ya and I’m inclined ta do the same, but if ya ever hurt him again I won’t be so forgiving. I trust my brathair’s judgement and I wanna trust you as well Claire, but I’m afeard yer gonna have ta prove yerself.”

Claire paused a moment to make sure Jenny was done with her speech before responding. “Jenny, I swear to you, Jamie has my whole heart. I definitely made more than a few mistakes in our relationship but all they did was lead me to realize that Jamie and I truly belong together. We have something deep and strange between us that I can’t explain, it’s like we were destined to be together. I never really believed in a higher power before I met Jamie, but now I feel as though there must be something out there, because it’s like some unseen hand is drawing us together against all odds. Jenny I swear to you, I will never hurt your brother again, I’d only be hurting myself if I did. I’m all in, and I don’t expect you to trust me right away, but I hope in time, you’ll see the truth of my words.”

“Aye, I hope so too” Jenny gave Claire a compassionate smile and handed her a truly large bowl of mashed potatoes. “Here, you can carry these in for me, thanks fer yer help.”

“Thank you Jenny, I’m so glad Jamie has such a wonderful family who cares so much about him.”

“Och, ‘tis what family’s for. Now come on, let’s eat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I know the order of Jenny's children is all messed up, but young Ian had to play football and everyone is too young for the Murray kids to be all grown. It's fine, who can really keep them all straight anyway? Don't @ me.


	12. Death by a Thousand Cuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Jamie to leave to go to London.
> 
> "Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts  
> Flashbacks waking me up  
> I get drunk, but it's not enough  
> 'Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! We've had a grand few chapters of fluff and smut, but we're not off the angst train yet I'm sorry to say. We all knew this was coming, Jamie has to go back to his wee Christmas tree farm outside of London, leaving Claire on Long Island. At least they're still together! Just a short little chapter for them to say goodbye this week.

Jamie and Claire spent the rest of the week cherishing every moment they had left together. Claire came straight back to the Murray farm every day after work and helped Jamie with whatever work he was doing on the farm, getting to know the Murray family in the process, and the couple spent late nights of love-making and promise-making in Jamie’s bed. Every moment they had left together was sacred. Their time, their wine, their spirits, their trust, there wasn’t a part of each other that they didn’t take up. By Friday night they were both sleep deprived and wept in each other’s arms, knowing it was their last night together. Usually, Jamie could quiet Claire’s fears with the touch of his hand, but that night their fears were shared. They fell asleep exhausted, puffy-eyed and wrapped in each other’s embrace, boarding up the windows of their love for the season, protecting it and keeping it safe.

Their final physical joining came the next morning; it was weepy, slow and indulgent. Claire gave Jamie everything she could: her heart, her hips, her body, her love--there wasn’t a part of her that he didn’t touch, and he gave as much to her. They kept as many points of contact between them as they could--hands were always on the other, their bodies facing each other always, making eye contact as they moved in rhythm with each other, savoring every sensation big and small. They lay in each other’s embrace afterwards, unable to let go. Easily convincing themselves that if they stayed in bed the day would never begin and Jamie wouldn’t have to leave. Eventually there was a knock at the door of the apartment. “Yes?!” Jamie grunted, well aware that it was likely his sister.

In fact, Jenny’s voice responded from the other side of the door “You two best be getting out of bed so ya can say goodbye ta yer family brathair! Dinna make me get a bucket of water to splash on you two! I’ve got a hearty breakfast prepared for ya and it’ll get cold if yer not down ta tha house in 10 minutes!”

“Aye Janet, I’m about ready, no need for a water bucket we’ll be down shortly.” Jamie shouted back.

Claire whimpered as Jamie peeled himself out of the bed to dress for breakfast.

“I know, mo nighean donn” he whispered, brushing a curl from her face and kissing her forehead. “I know.” Usually Jamie would have the perfect words to say to transform Claire’s mood, but all he could do was share in her pain, because it was his pain too. _I can’t pretend that it’s ok when it’s not._ He thought, trying to come up with something to say. There was no easy way to do this. Saying good-bye was death by a thousand cuts.

\----------

Claire had agreed over a family dinner earlier that week to drive Jamie to the airport, much to Jenny and Ian’s relief. Jamie was flying out from a small airport an hour North of the city and neither of the Murrays felt inclined to lose half a Saturday when there was always work to do on the farm, in addition to minding the children off from school for the weekend. The Murrays found that Claire was a helpful addition to the family, even in the short week she spent on their homestead. This was shown particularly when wee Janet threw a toy at Michael’s head causing him to gush blood, which in turn sent Jenny into a near panic. Claire used her medical expertise to clean and bandaged the wound, able to keep her cool despite the gory scene before her. She assured Jenny Michael would not need stitches, that heads just bled a lot, having many blood vessels to supply oxygen to the brain. Claire continued to check and dress the wound for Michael throughout the week, and Michael, having gotten over the initial shock and pain of the event, was now looking forward to having a ‘cool forehead scar like Harry Potter’. The event was a blessing in disguise for Claire and Jamie, because Jamie became assured that Claire had won Jenny over and wasted no time asking her if Claire could stay. Jenny agreed enthusiastically, thrilled to have a nurse on call as her children were inclined to taking risks and getting into small accidents.

Claire couldn’t believe how her life had completely transformed in the space of a week. She had started her life as an only child, continued her upbringing with her single uncle after her parents’ untimely death, drifted into Frank’s arms in college only to find herself completely alone in a large, suburban McMansion. She had never had more than one or two people she could call family and now here she was, surrounded by the vibrancy and love of a large, chaotic brood. They were quick to embrace her as one of their own and Claire couldn’t believe she had lived her whole life without the feeling of family. She was elated to be included and was glad she had loved ones to surround herself with when Jamie was gone. She knew it wouldn’t be an easy season, but having people who loved Jamie just as much as she did close by was reassuring.

\----------

Jamie drove to the airport since Claire would be driving the whole way home alone. For the most part the drive was silent, save for the radio playing in the background. What station it was tuned to, neither of them could say, their thoughts were elsewhere. Everything there was to be said had already been said, and anything that was spoken would only lead to another deluge of tears. All they could do was hold hands, desperately trying to keep one another close, unable to let go just yet. The airport was so small that the security line extended into the lobby, unlike the winding queues Claire was used to seeing at JFK or LaGuardia. Claire waited in line with him for as long as she could, wishing desperately she could go through with him and part with him at the gate. This made for an awkward parting, where they let several people cut ahead of them in line as they said their final farewell.

“Sassenach, you know this is a great love we have, one for the ages. If there were still bards in this world they’d sing a tale of our love. We’re strong enough to get through this.” Jamie assured her. He was holding her close and kissed her forehead softly through his tears.

Claire was sobbing so hard she could hardly reply. All she could manage to choke out was “Jamie, I love you. I’ll always love you.”

They embraced firmly, soaking each other’s shoulders with tears. They gave each other one last sloppy, passionate kiss, that lasted as long as it could before the person behind them in line cleared their throat loudly to encourage them to get on with it. They held hands as Jamie moved away to the security official. Claire stood outside the barrier until Jamie finally disappeared into the airport on the other side of security, glancing back as much as he could, giving a final wave as he rushed off to his gate in a final flash of red hair.

Losing sight of him, Claire fled from the airport and back to the car, collapsing over the steering wheel she cried until she could cry no more, she had no idea how long she sobbed, meanwhile, texting Jamie final good-byes before he had to shut his phone off while the plane taxied. In their text, they made solid promises and paper thin plans to see each other soon. Jamie desperately wanted to come home for American Thanksgiving, but knowing that was when business really started to pick up for him, he didn’t know if he could allow his godfather and his hired hand to take over so much responsibility. Maybe she could come visit him, but she would have to take a few extra days off work and it was so hard to find qualified nurses to substitute for her in her absence. Jamie did promise he would see her at Christmas no matter what. He always took a red-eye Christmas Eve to visit his family over the winter holidays, unable to miss Christmas and Hogmanay with the Murray’s. Seeing the unbridled joy on his niece’s and nephew’s faces on Christmas morning was one of the greatest pleasures of Jamie’s life, at least until he met Claire. Now, he was ecstatic at the idea of sharing the experience of her, and Claire was looking forward to it as well. Usually she drove up to Boston to visit her Uncle Lamb and they had a humble dinner and small gift exchange. The Murray’s assured her she could invite Lamb and Claire was looking forward to her first experience of a large family Christmas.

Eventually, Claire’s tears dried up, leaving only their sadness and she was able to see well enough to drive home. She took the long way home, not wanting to risk the speed of the expressway in her emotional state, and not ready to face an existence without Jamie upon her arrival home. Not having anyone else to talk to, Claire asked the traffic lights if it would be alright, and they responded with a silent reply of “I don’t know”. The tears were starting to flow again as Claire returned to Long Island again, and she decided to stop at her house to pack some of her things before returning to Jamie’s empty apartment. She sighed as she entered the foyer, the chandelier still flickering above her as she flipped the switch, somewhat comforted by the familiar emptiness of the space. She was used to this house being empty and devoid of love, she could live with the feeling there, she wasn’t sure if she could live with the feeling of being where Jamie once lived and breathed and moved and cooked and bathed and made love to her, constantly feeling he should be there doing those things.

She spent hours packing, organizing and reorganizing her things, dressing in old clothes to see if she still liked them, anything to kill the time so she could prolong the inevitable. If she was there, she could still pretend Jamie was at his apartment, she could pretend everything was ok when it wasn’t. She remembered those first nights staying at the house after Frank left. He had given up on her like she was a bad drug, walked out never to return again, hired someone to pack his things, gone without a goodbye. His absence, though haunting brought with it a sense of relief. There was emptiness, but at least his stifling presence wasn’t filling the space. Frank had been intolerable in their final weeks; he was mistrusting, manipulative, condescending and controlling, even before Claire had acted on her desire for Jamie. She had been on her best behavior, trying to be the perfect future-wife to him. She gave him so much, but it wasn’t enough to win him over, to bring him back to the man she had fallen in love with. If anything, Frank’s distrust was a catalyst for her unfaithfulness. She remembered thinking _damned if I do, damned if I don’t so I might as well._ At that time, an empty home was a comfort to her--now, she knew that wouldn't be the case.

The sky grew dark and Claire had filled her car up with boxes. Even if she had more to pack, she couldn’t have fit anymore and it was time to face the inevitable task of going home to an empty bed. On the drive back through a small town she saw Jamie everywhere, thinking of all the drives they had shared on those very roads, hand in hand, anticipating whatever would come next.

Once she arrived, she unloaded some of the boxes into the garage, where Jenny had cleared a space for her to store her belongings that wouldn’t fit in Jamie’s small apartment. There weren’t many boxes, just some trinkets and souvenirs from her travels with Uncle Lamb, and old photo albums and memorabilia from her parents that she kept tucked away. She left all the dishes and decorations at the house, Frank could decide what to do with them when he sold the place, she no longer had any interest in the relics of a cookie-cutter life she put together with Frank. The boxes filled with her clothes and shoes could wait until morning, she left those in the car and ascended the steps to Jamie’s apartment.

The ghost of his presence haunted the room, it was as if he had vanished into thin air. There were so many signs of him: his summer clothes were still in the closet, his unwashed glass on the kitchen counter, his sandals placed beside the door. The bedsheets still smelled like him. Everything smelled like him. This apartment, which in the past week had gone from _his_ to _ours, felt_ like it was no one’s now. Claire poured herself a healthy portion of whiskey and headed to the bed, taking the bottle with her. Her tear ducts had replenished themselves and she was crying again. She was torn between wanting to bury her face in Jamie’s pillow, and worried that the saltiness of her tears would dilute Jamie’s scent, the most tangible thing she had left of him. She spent the rest of the night crying herself to sleep and getting drunk, but it wasn’t enough; the morning came and he was still gone. Her dreams were restless, memories of him, flashbacks of their life together kept wandering in and out of her subconscious, occasionally waking her up to the devastating reminder that he wasn’t really there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not making any promises about next week's chapter being on time. Posting on Friday was a self-imposed deadline, but 1. grades are due next week (I'm a teacher) and 2. the next chapter is really personal and emotionally difficult for me to write (but also a healthy cathartic thing). I may still post on schedue because my superintendent did reward us with an extra day off next week and there's a good chance that Thanksgiving dinner will be just my husband and I which will allow for more time for writing, but I just wanted to give you all a heads up in case it isn't ready. Happy Thanskgiving to all my US readers, stay safe!


	13. Soon You'll Get Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jo go Christmas shopping; Claire gets a call at work that Lamb’s in the hospital in Boston where she fears she will need to spend the holidays without Jamie. In short: _angst, but make it festive._
> 
> _" This won't go back to normal, if it ever was  
>  It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because  
> 'Cause I have to  
> Ooh-ah, you'll get better..."_
> 
> CW: cancer, hospitals, illness of a loved one,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, if you’re still here, thank you for reading, and thank you for bearing with me as I took a small hiatus. Hopefully I will be getting back to a more regular posting schedule, but work is really draining right now and it’s hard to find enough hours in the day to do everything. 
> 
> As you know, each Chapter of this fic is based off a Taylor Swift song by the same name. This one was particularly difficult to write/approach because I actually haven’t listened to this song in over a year. In early Summer 2019, a tumor was found on my grandfather’s brain. This was also the summer I discovered Outlander, and the summer Taylor Swift released Lover. The day after Lover came out, I broke down sobbing in my apartment listening to this song and thinking about my grandfather, knowing his condition was worsening. That night, I recieved the call that my grandfather had passed. He was the kindest, purest soul and I write this chapter in part as a tribute to him. Many of the experiences Claire and Lamb share are based on my own experiences with my grandpa that summer, and this version of Lamb is very much based on my Grandpa Jim. 
> 
> That being said, you may want to grab a box of tissues before reading, but hopefully not all your tears will be sad. I’m hoping to post again before Chistmas, but in case I don’t Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!--and Happy Hanukkah to any Jewish readers I may have--here is a Hanukkah present for you!

“All I want for Christmas is yooouuuuu” the sounds of Mariah Carey rang out throughout the small boutique gift shop in the heart of the village of Northport.

“Good God, we’re only a week into December and I swear I’ve already heard this song three hundred times. I’m not exaggerating either. Two hundred and eight-four at the very least.” Jo scoffed exasperatedly.

“Are you complaining?” Claire asked in reply. “It’s a great song--a classic really.”

“Do you know how many incredible, amazing, beautiful, jolly Christmas songs there are in existence?” Jo was gearing up for one of their famous rants, “Yet, the radio stations only ever play the same eighteen songs, I swear!”

“It must be more than eighteen.”

“Fine. Twenty. Take this song for instance: Ingrid Michaelson has the most hauntingly beautiful cover of it--do you ever hear it? No! You only ever hear Mariah!”

“I, for one, like Mariah!” Claire interjected, playfully defensive.

“Who doesn’t? But she’s not the only powerhouse female vocalist out there! I’d just like to see a little diversity in my holiday music, is that so much to ask?”

Claire giggled. Her best friend always had an opinion on everything and she loved them all the more for it. “Do you think Jenny would like this candle?” Claire unscrewed the lid a locally-made jar candle, taking a sniff before placing it under Jo’s nose. It smelled like Lavender and Sage with just a hint of Eucalyptus.

“Does Jenny keep a lot of candles around, with all those children?” Jo chuckled back. “It does smell nice though.” Jo had only met Jenny a couple times when visiting Claire, but they had a knack for reading people and Claire was glad to have them along as a shopping partner.

“I suppose candles aren’t really her thing. Jenny seems very practical, but I don’t know what she would need that she doesn’t already have, and Jamie’s been no help!”

“I think you’re on the right track with the self-care/relaxation vibe, but maybe not something the children can use to burn the house down. What about an artisanal lotion set?” Jo inquired, gesturing at a nearby display.

“Oh that might work!” Claire took a squirt from the bottle labeled ‘tester’ inhaling deeply as she rubbed it between her palms. “Ooo that’s nice, I would appreciate this if I were a hardworking mother.”

“If things keep going the way they are with your man, LJ, you might just be before you know it” Jo made a lewd gesture with their hands, raising their eyebrows to make it clear exactly what they were implying.

“Jo! You’re terrible” Claire shrieked, smacking her friend playfully on the arm. Besides, not much of that happening these days if you haven’t noticed, Jamie is literally across the ocean.”

“Well, at least you can’t get knocked up from phone sex,” Jo replied. “What are you getting _him_ anyway? I’m thinking something lacy and strappy, with little bows on it of course, to be festive. There’s a place down the street that might have something like that.”

“Hmm” Claire exhaled. “We’ll see.” Claire knew lingerie was definitely going to be _part of_ Jamie’s Christmas gift, one she would be most excited for him to unwrap. God, she missed him. It had been over a month and they were settling into a routine, video chatting every night, sweet texts back and forth throughout the day, the occasional phone sex when they were both sick with desire for one other--but nothing was the same as the feel of their bodies pressed against each other in the heat of the moment, chasing each other’s climax. Claire couldn’t wait to be reunited with him in every way.

\----------

It was two days before Christmas break, only a few days left until Claire would find freedom for the next ten days and, most of all--the comfort of Jamie’s arms. Claire was sitting in her school nurse’s office, inhaling deeply during the first quiet moments she’d had all week. There was an uptick of student visits in the past couple weeks--a few were legitimate concerns tied to cold and flu season: students whose parents sent them to school when they weren’t quite well enough, overachievers who wanted to maintain their perfect attendance dragging themselves to school despite their bodies protestations. Most of her patients however, were suffering from something much more insidious: the eagerness to start their winter break early by skipping their classes. This time of year the air of the school felt different, students and teachers alike were burnt out, apathetic, and ready for a break. This attitude in the students fed into the teachers’ attitudes--overworked with the end of the marking period, trying to squeeze in Christmas shopping and decorating between grading. Claire did not envy Jo nor any of the other teachers during this time, but their exhaustion was so palpable in the air of the school that she was starting to feel it too. By tomorrow, most teachers would be shutting their doors and playing a holiday film, giving up on instruction all together--hopefully that would make for a quiet day for Claire. Really, if she could just get through the rest of the day it would be smooth sailing until Christmas--until Jamie.

Her silent musings were broken by the blaring sound of her office phone. She was expecting a teacher, calling to send a student down, but instead it was the school clerk, Glenda. “Hi Nurse Beauchamp, we have an outside call for you, it seems like it may be a personal call so if there’s any students with you we can send someone down to watch them if you’d like to take it privately here in the office.”

Claire's heart sank to her stomach. _What could it be?_ She took a deep breath and swallowed to brace herself before replying “last student just left.”

“Alright, I’ll transfer you now.” The click of the call transferring sounded through the phone.

“Hello, this is Miss Beauchamp”

“Hello Miss Beauchamp, I’m Tammy, a nurse at Mass General we’re calling because you’re listed as the emergency contact for Quentin Beauchamp” a nasally voice croaked through the phone speaker--the voice was impersonal like that of a cashier saying “have a nice day” for the thousandth time, not fitting of a potential harbinger of death.

“Yes…” Claire replied, nervously, questioningly.

“Mr. Lambert was admitted this morning after showing signs of cognitive distress. An initial cat scan shows a mass on his brain. He’s currently undergoing testing to see if it’s cancerous.”

Claire’s lungs felt like they were about to collapse. Lamb had been diagnosed with prostate cancer several years ago, but had been able to live with it through treatment. Claire also knew that cancer was insidious and could spread throughout the body rapidly and without warning. She knew it was very likely that the mass was cancer. She tried to find her medical professional voice, but a diagnosis was different when it was someone you loved. Instead, she croaked out, “when will you know?”

“We should have the results by tomorrow. He’ll stay here overnight for monitoring and we’ll decide whether to admit him long term from there.”

“I’m on Long Island, should I drive up?”

“I’m afraid it’s too soon to tell, it could be nothing, but--” Claire cut her off, knowing exactly how bad it could be.

“I understand. I’ll drive up this evening.”

“Alright, he should be back in his room by then, he’s out getting his tests done now. It’s room 713 when you get here.” Claire wrote the number on a bright blue sticky note on her desk as the nurse spoke. “Have a nice day Ms. Beauchamp”

“Hmm” was all she could reply, as if she could possibly have a nice day. She hung up the phone, and finally let the deluge of tears she’d been holding back free. 

She allowed herself to cry for a few minutes to get it out, but she knew she had to get to Boston as soon as possible. She picked up the phone again and dialed the main office.

“Hi Glenda, it’s Claire. I need to take the rest of the day off--I have to go to Boston, my uncle…” she couldn’t say it out loud for fear of unleashing the tears again “Is Principal Gowan there, I need to let him know.”

“Oh Nurse Beauchamp, I’m so sorry to hear that, let me know if you need anything. Mr. Gowan’s in his office, I’ll transfer you to him now, if he doesn’t answer just pack up your things and go, I’ll take care of it”

“Thanks Glenda, I really appreciate it”

\----------

After getting the ok from her kind and understanding principal, Claire rushed back to Jamie’s apartment, hastily packed a bag (likely forgetting several things), informed Jenny where she was going--which was met with sympathy and genuine concern--and hopped back in the car for the journey to Boston. She entered the hospital doors several hours later, the buttons of her coat were tangled in her hair as she rushed, breathless, to the front desk to receive her visitor’s pass.

When she arrived at Lamb’s room, he was asleep. She didn’t want to wake him, but she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze to let him know she was there before settling into the armchair beside him to await his awakening. He looked so frail and small in the hospital bed, not at all like the strong, spirited man who had raised her. He had left the television on--some sports channel was playing a highlight reel of various golfing moments. _No wonder Lamb fell asleep._ Claire was staring at the screen, but her thoughts were elsewhere: worried about Lamb, wondering if she’d remember everything when she hastily packed, wondering what the future held. Would she have to spend Christmas in this hospital room? A golf ball soared across the Scottish Highlands on the screen. _Jamie._ Jamie was coming home Christmas Eve, she was supposed to pick him up from the airport, supposed to spend her holiday break with him, experience her first Hogmanay with the Murray family, be surrounded by love and laughter and family. Lamb was supposed to be fine, he was supposed to take the train down, spend Christmas with them. Every plan they had made was shattered into a million pieces. Would she even be able to see Jamie? She thought about the presents she’d bought for him, not yet wrapped, piled in the closet but definitely not hidden, especially considering it was _his_ apartment. Of course he’d understand--she could tell him where they were, but the magic of unwrapping would be lost, it would feel entirely unsentimental. It was bad enough that she felt her gifts weren’t sentimental enough--what could she possibly get him to show how special he was to her? How could she communicate that with an object? If she were a painter she would paint him a painting, if she were a songwriter she would write him a song, but she was simply Claire, and practical gifts were all she knew. She had purchased a cozy blue sweater to match his eyes and keep him warm in the brisk London winters, a cool multi-tool the size of a credit card that would fit in his wallet and help him solve a variety of problems, a protective case for his phone, and a box of artisanal beef jerky. She had also procured a complicated piece of lingerie with a big red bow across the chest for him to unwrap the night of Christmas, which she knew he would enjoy. Everything was thoughtful enough and mostly practical, but she longed to be able to give him something truly special--a grand gesture to match her feelings for him. Claire glanced back at her uncle and immediately felt guilty being so selfish. _I hate to make this all about me._ Lamb always had a knack for helping her realize what was important when life’s situations overwhelmed her. She needed him for perspective, but how could she talk to him about this? How could she tell him how she felt? She knew it was wrong, but she was mad at him for getting sick so close to Christmas. _Who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if there’s no you?_ The tears were welling up in her eyes as she watched her most beloved uncle sleep--hooked up to machines, pale and listless in the hospital bed.

Claire slipped into the adjoining bathroom to try to compose herself--she didn’t want her uncle to wake up and see her upset, she knew he would try to comfort her, to be the rock he always had been for her. She was here to be _his_ rock this time, she needed to stay strong for him. She looked at herself in the mirror, telling herself it was going to be ok--her uncle was strong and he’d been fighting a long time--he’d continue to fight. _Soon you’ll get better._ She had to convince herself it was true, pretend it wasn’t real, it wasn’t so bad. She knew it was a delusion, she could see it all over her glass face when she looked in the mirror. She was genuinely afraid that this could be when she lost him, if not physically right away, he could be lost mentally. She’d been hoping for years he would get better, but now it seemed he’d taken a turn for the worse. She took a few deep breaths and offered up a prayer. She wasn’t usually religious, but they say desperate people find faith, so she decided it was time to try. _God? Jesus? Whoever is up there. I know I don’t much deserve anything from you, I’m not sure I’m exactly on good terms with you, but I’m inclined to believe you care and you are good. Besides, I’m not really asking anything for myself, not really. I just pray my Uncle is ok, I pray he gets better. He has to. Please don’t take his brilliant mind away from him. Please let him be ok. Please, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever it takes to help him. Just please, please, don’t take him away from me. I need him. Please let him get better. Please let him get better._ Claire continued to repeat the words like a mantra as she returned to her bedside chair. She stared at the collection of orange bottles on the tray table. _Please let them help him get better. Please let him get better. Please, please, please let him get better._

Claire had no idea how long she sat there, repeating those words to herself, but her silent appeal was interrupted when a nurse entered the room to check her uncle’s vitals.

“Hi, I’m Brenda, I’ll be the nurse on duty tonight.” Brenda erased a name on a small whiteboard in front of the room and replaced it with her own.

“I’m Claire, I’m his niece.”

Brenda had made her way over to the other side of the bed and was checking the monitors beside the bed, making notes on the chart in her hand. “I hate waking them up, but I’m going to have to.” Claire was glad that she was much kinder than the nurse she had spoken with on the phone earlier—had that really been earlier? It seemed much longer since that phone call. “Excuse me, Quentin? Sir?” Brenda gently nudged his arm to awaken him. Lamb’s eyes fluttered open and he looked disoriented, Claire watched him carefully hoping that his disorientation was solely from being awoken mid-sleep and not from any neurological damage.

“Hi Uncle Lamb” Claire stammered, hoping she sounded cheerful anyway.

“Claire! My girl! You came all the way to see your old uncle!”

“Of course I did! How are you?” she replied warmly.

“Oh, I’m fine, they’re taking good care of me here.” Lamb’s voice sounded genuinely content and Claire felt comforted for the first time since the hospital had called her earlier that day.

“Hello sir, my name’s Brenda, I’ll be your nurse tonight. I just need to ask you a few questions and check your vitals.”

“What is your name?”

“Quentin Lambert Beauchamp”

“Good. When is your birthday?

“March 23th, 1939”

“Good, and who is the president?”

“Well, unfortunately…” both Claire and Brenda giggled at how Lamb began his sentence. Claire was well aware of Lamb’s opinions of the current president of the United States, and was glad to see he hadn’t lost his sly sense of humor or his disdain for the man. She was also glad he knew who the president was, hopefully his mental capacities were more promising than the worst-case-scenario her mind was conjuring.

\----------

Claire stayed by her uncle’s side for the rest of the night, only leaving the room twice, once to find something to eat from a vending machine, and once for her nightly call to Jamie. She allowed herself to break down when talking to Jamie, sobbing over the phone. Jamie did his best to comfort her through the speaker, desperately wishing he could be there for her in person. Claire wished the same, longing to curl up in his strong embrace, and bury her swollen face in his chest. She couldn’t bring up the fact that she might have to spend Christmas in Boston. She was enough of a mess without facing the reality that they wouldn’t see each other, and when Jamie promised they’d see each other soon at the end of their call, Claire hung up quickly as another wave of emotion overtook her and she buried her face in her hands to cry some more.

The next morning, the doctor came in with Lamb’s results. Claire grasped Lamb’s hand, unsure of who was holding onto whom for comfort as the doctor explained that the mass on Lamb’s brain was in fact cancerous, but it was still relatively small and had been caught early. He explained that they could operate on it and remove it, however there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t come back or that they’d be able to get it all out. It was moments like these where Claire desperately wished she was already a surgeon, that she could feel in control of the outcome--though could she operate on her own uncle? Would she be able to hold her hand steady enough to do a good job? No, perhaps it was best left to the veteran surgeons in Boston.

After discussing all the details and options with the doctor’s, Lamb decided to go through with the surgery. It was scheduled for the day after Christmas and Claire resigned herself to the sobering fact that she’d be spending the holidays in the hospital. As the florescent hospital lights lit the room with an unnatural glow, Claire couldn’t tell him she was scared. She had to stay strong, she had to keep it together and remain positive and supportive.

\----------

Claire spent the next few days devoted to her uncle, rarely leaving his bedside. Lamb had forced her to spend the nights at his apartment, which was probably for the best. She wasn’t sleeping well to begin with and the recliner at the hospital was only making matters worse. Claire was present and doting on him from morning to night though, helping her uncle order his meals, assisting him when he needed to use the restroom, adding and removing pillows and blankets as needed, or anything else he needed or wanted. Lamb had been moved to the cancer floor, and the window of his new room had a nice view of the Boston skyline. Lamb was making the best of a bad deal, he bragged about his ‘luxury accommodations’, he cracked jokes often, he liked the nicer nurses, he ordered extra dessert with all his meals and was in generally pleasant spirits. Claire could see the cracks in his cognition though. Sometimes he would change the topic he was discussing mid-sentence, and he couldn’t seem to keep time straight. Whenever anyone would mention Christmas, he would act surprised to know that it was coming up, and at one point he hinted at Claire that she might just get those roller skates she wanted for Christmas, a gift she had not asked for since she was eleven years old. He didn’t seem to know what year it was or how old Claire was. He did know who Claire _was_ though, and for that she was thankful. He also knew who the president was whenever the nurses asked, always beginning his answer with a short preamble to make known his disdain.

Before they knew it, it was Christmas Eve and Claire couldn’t hide the sadness she felt on her face. She was glad to spend the evening with Lamb, but she had been looking forward to her first big family Christmas. She had filled in Jamie about Lamb’s condition and her subsequent stay in Boston over the course of their phone calls that week. She had also describe the Christmas gifts she had purchased for the Murrays, Jo, and Lamb, so Jamie would know the rest were for him. Jamie had agreed to put the Murrays gifts in gift bags and distribute them for her. They were meant to exchange family gifts that evening, the morning being reserved for Santa, and Claire was heartbroken to be missing out. In a matter of hours, and for the first time in two months, her and Jamie would be on the same continent, yet they wouldn’t be able to see each other. There was no way Claire could get into the Christmas spirit under these conditions. The hospital, despite being modestly decorated, was not the most festive atmosphere. Even a troop of Girl Scouts caroling their way through the hospital halls did nothing to assuage the weight of losing everything Claire had been looking forward to for the past two months.

“What’s a matter, my dear?” Lamb asked, showing genuine concern for his niece.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine, I promise, I’m just wishing things were different today.”

“Why today? Is it something special? I can’t seem to remember.”

“It’s Christmas Eve. You were supposed to come to Long Island and meet Jamie. We were going to spend the holiday with his family.”

“Yes, I remember, that’s today? Oh dear, I haven’t gotten your gift yet I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine, Lamb, I’m afraid I left your gift at home, so we’ll have to do that part later. We can take a raincheck on gift exchanging. I was just really looking forward to you getting to know Jamie.”

“I’m sure I’ll meet the lad soon; he seems really special to you.”

“He is; I know you’ll like him.”

“I already do.” He patted the top of her hand and turned his attention back to the sitcom on the television, providing humorous commentary to try to cheer Claire up.

\----------

It was late Christmas morning. Uncle Lamb was napping again and Claire had switched the television to the Hallmark Channel--usually her guilty pleasure this season, today it was simply reminding her of how her Christmas was proving to be less than magical. For her there would be no Christmas kisses, no magical snowfall, no saving the small town family business or learning to love Christmas again. All that awaited her this Christmas were fluorescent lights, beeping monitors, and nurses visiting every 6 hours to check her uncle’s vitals. This Christmas would be decidedly the most un-magical she had ever experienced. She had had her share of unconventional Christmases in the past, in fact, she never really was a Christmas person, but it had started to feel special to her when she was living in New York. _This_ Christmas though-- _this_ was one she was looking forward to more than ever before. Claire spent most of the morning crying, grieving over all she was missing. She should have spent the morning curled up in Jamie’s arms, watching the children open presents. She could picture the Murray’s living room, trashed with colorful wrapping paper from end to end, each child in their own private world fascinated by their latest favorite toy, Jenny and Ian beaming through tired eyes.

Claire was surprised Jamie hadn’t called her to fill her in on the details yet. He had called yesterday when his plane arrived--groggy and jet-lagged, his communication skills were not the most eloquent, but he tried his best to make her feel better. She hadn’t heard from him at all this morning though, not even a Merry Christmas text. Surely the jet lag would have woken him up as early as the children, and they must have been done opening presents by now. Claire tried to rationalize that Jamie was just spending time with his family, but she couldn’t help feeling hurt and ignored. She thought she was important enough to him that he could take a moment away from his family to at least text her, or to find some way to make her feel included from afar. Had his feelings changed in their months apart? Did coming home to a messy apartment turn him off? Did she find his Christmas gifts and come to think she didn’t care enough to get him something more thoughtful? She thought about calling him, but a mixture of pride and fear kept her from acting first, not to mention she couldn’t stop crying over these sappy Christmas movies.

Suddenly, a voice from the doorway rang through the room, “Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!” Claire looked up in confusion, momentarily unable to comprehend her surroundings and the disruption that had just entered them. _Santa?_ No. The tall figure filling the door frame was dressed like Santa, beard and all, but the unmistakable Scottish burr gave away his true identity. If Claire hadn’t already been crying, she certainly was now. Jamie was standing in the doorway, dressed in a Santa suit, carrying a large, blue IKEA bag overflowing with wrapped presents and what appeared to be Christmas decorations.

“What?” Claire could hardly believe he was there, she rose from the chair and the couple met in the middle of the room for a hearty embrace. Claire buried her face in the soft, fluffy suit covering Jamie’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Perhaps the setting wasn’t a snow covered street in a small town, but this was her own Hallmark movie moment--and to be honest, those Hallmark guys had nothing on James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser. Jamie held her close, and tight, planting kisses in her curls and whispering softly to her.

“I’m here, mo nighean donn.” He caressed her shoulders with his thumbs, not releasing his embrace in the slightest, breathing in her scent, trying to absorb her fears and pain.

All of the commotion had awoken Uncle Lamb and after witnessing the couples’ embrace for longer than was comfortable, Lamb loudly cleared his throat to remind them of his presence in the room.

“Uncle Lamb!” Claire unfolded herself from Jamie’s embrace, keeping one arm around his back. Jamie sheepishly pulled the fake beard down around his neck to reveal his face and removed his Santa hat, clutching it tightly in the palm that wasn’t holding Claire. “This is Jamie, my Jamie. Jamie, this is my Uncle Lamb.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad it’s not Santa Claus, or we’d have a lot of explaining to do to the lad!” Lamb chuckled back.

“A pleasure to finally meet you, sir.” Jamie reluctantly released Claire from his grasp to step beside the bed, extending a firm but gentle hand to Lamb. “I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”

“Pleased to meet you as well, lad” Lamb replied, patting Jamie’s hand with his before releasing their handshake. “And don’t you worry about me, I have the best nurse there is taking care of me.” Two sets of proudly smiling eyes met Claire across the room.

“Oh I dinna doubt it for a second. Your niece is a rare woman.”

“Glad to see we’re in agreement. Now what’s all that?” Lamb gestured towards the large tote discarded near Claire’s feet.

“Aye, I thought I’d bring you two a bit o’ holiday cheer.” Jamie pulled a large cardboard box from the bag and extracted a small tabletop Christmas tree from it, unfurling each branch carefully and placing it on the countertop across the room, plugging it in to reveal fiber optic lights changing colors dreamily. “I usually insist on my Christmas trees being more, well, alive, but under the circumstances this’ll have tae do.” Jamie and Claire spent the next half hour or so festooning the room in garlands and placing tiny ornaments on the small tree. Claire tried to ignore that more than half of the bag was filled with brightly wrapped gifts, not sure whether she was hoping they were all for her, or hoping that they weren’t. After all, she didn’t have anything to give him and she didn’t know if he had looked through his gifts yet nor if he had appreciated them.

While they decorated, Jamie filled Claire and Lamb in on the events of the last few days. Jamie had called Jenny to tell her not to bother picking him up from the airport. He had planned on renting a car there and driving straight to Boston. Claire could hear Jenny’s voice loud and clear through Jamie’s imitation “ _ya clotheid! Have ya gone daft? Yer barely able to form coherent sentences amidst the jet lag from yer Christmas Eve flight, and ya wanna drive five hours tae Boston in that state!?! Claire willna appreciate ya ending up in a ditch on the side of the road as a Christmas present ya eejit!_ ” Jenny had made a fair point, and Jamie had agreed to sleep at home and left shortly after he awoke that morning, staying only long enough for the children to open their stockings, and to watch their faces alight with surprise at the sudden appearance of piles of presents under and around the tree.

“I’m glad you took Jenny’s advice, but most of all I’m glad you’re here.” She embraced him again. “You didn’t have to do this though, Jamie, I know how important your family is to you.”

Jamie stepped back and lifted Claire’s chin with his thumb, looking into her eyes. “ _You_ are important to me, Sassenach.” he replied, with a sincerity that penetrated Claire’s heart. Claire responded by kissing Jamie chastely on the cheek, knowing her uncle was only four feet away--politely trying to ignore them and watch the television which he had flipped to an all-day marathon of _A Christmas Story_ on repeat. Jamie’s welcome intrusion broke up the monotony of hospital life and seemed to give Lamb a better sense of what day it was.

“Now that we’ve got the place looking good and festive, I believe it’s traditional to exchange gifts on Christmas day.”

“Jamie, it’s too much, I--”

“Oh? Thought they were all for you, didja Sassenach?” he teased. Claire blushed. Of course; she hadn’t really--but who else would they be for? Surely Jamie wouldn’t spoil Lamb, a complete stranger to him, quite so much, and no one else was there. She looked dumbfounded as she tried to come up with a defense but Jamie stopped her. “Dinna fash, Sassenach, Jenny wrapped your gifts for me and Lamb before I could see and I bought them along too. She thanks ya for the wee lotions, by the way.”

“God bless Jenny! That woman is a Saint.” Claire also silently thanked God that she had left the present she was planning on wearing for Jamie that evening in her dresser drawer, that was _not_ a gift she wanted Jenny to see, and was _definitely not_ something she wanted him to be opening in front of her uncle.

The three exchanged gifts, save Lamb, who had nothing to give but smiles and approval for the young couples’ thoughtful gifts. Jamie was genuinely appreciative of Claire’s gifts, although she kept insisting that she hadn’t finished shopping and there was more to come; to which Jamie humbly rejected, claiming it wasn’t necessary. Jamie’s gifts to Claire were thoughtful and meaningful, the most touching ones being a print of a painting of the rose garden he had ordered from the Botanic Garden’s gift shop and a bracelet engraved with the words _perennis amor,_ which caused Claire to tear up and embrace him tenderly in spite of her uncle’s presence.

The three enjoyed the rest of the day thoroughly. _A Christmas Story_ played in the background and they laughed and shared stories with one another. Jamie was a born storyteller and Lamb was elated to have a fresh audience to recount his many adventures to, so conversation flowed naturally between them, with Claire occasionally interjecting. Claire mostly just sat back and admired the two men who were most important to her, filled with joy that they were getting along, that Jamie was there, that it was Christmas. For the first time in several days she had hope and peace. She was surrounded by love in that hospital room as well. She had all the things Christmas was said to bring, and for that she was grateful. Jamie had made her greatest Christmas wishes come true without her even asking and she felt lucky to be alive.

The hospital staff served their version of Christmas dinner for the small family, and while Claire was sure it paled in comparison to whatever Jenny had made, it was quite delicious, especially considering it was hospital food. Jamie ate in the armchair next to Lamb at Claire’s insistence, since the two were deep in conversation, and Claire sat in the chair on the other side of Jamie, taking in her magical Christmas scene, better than any Hallmark movie could depict.

After dinner, Jamie was fading fast, listening to one of Lamb’s stories with heavy eyes. She took one of the spare blankets and covered Jamie. “Looks like you’re still not over your jet lag”

“Hrmmphh, I ‘spose not.”

“Do you want me to go get you a coffee? I doubt the cafe downstairs is open today, but there’s a cappuccino vending machine a few floors down that isn’t terrible.”

“Aye Sassenach, that’d be bonny. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“None at all, my love, I’ll be back soon.” Claire squeezed his hand before leaving the two men alone.

Jamie listened to her footsteps down the hall, and waited until he heard the ding of the elevator before he cleared his throat to speak frankly to Lamb. He sat up straight in the chair to ward off the sleepiness, having a few important things he wanted to say before Claire came back.

“Lamb, I need you to know, Claire is the most important person in my life. I love her sae much and I’d do anything for her.”

“I’m glad to hear that, I can see how happy you make her. She lights up when you’re around, it comforts my old heart to see.”

“I need you tae know, I’m very serious about her. I ken we haven’t been together that long, but I know--I know deep in my wame that I’m meant tae be hers. I want ya to know that I intend on spending the rest of my life making her happy, and while I havna bought a ring or ennathing yet, I wanted to ask yer blessing” Jamie paused for a moment before adding, “just in case.”

“Of course you have my blessing, son. I couldn’t be more glad to know that Claire will be so well cared for after I’m gone, truly.” Both men looked somber, knowing full well that this could be their last conversation, hoping dearly that it wasn’t. Claire returned with three cappuccinos in hand, surprised by the mood in the room.

“Everything alright, gentlemen? Don’t tell me Ralphie shot his eye out!”

“Och! Everything’s fine, Claire! I’m just tired is all, I’m sure this wee cappuccino will cure me in no time!” replied Jamie, eagerly taking a cup from Claire as she set another on Lamb’s tray table. The rest of the evening was quiet as Jamie took a nap, while Lamb and Claire watched _A Christmas Story_ more intently then they had all day. Claire didn’t want to leave him alone so early on Christmas so she let Jamie nap until Lamb was asleep soundly for the night. The sense of joy she had felt all day was still present, but the nagging worry she felt about Lamb’s coming surgery was starting to settle in as well. Claire woke Jamie gently and Claire whispered softly to Lamb that they’d return in the morning, squeezing his hand before the couple quietly left the room.

\----------

They walked out to Jamie’s car, since he still had his stuff packed in it, but Claire drove them back to Lamb’s apartment where she’d been staying. The cappuccino was helping Jamie stay coherent, but he was in no state to drive. They were quiet on the drive home, but kept their hands locked between the seats, grateful just to be in the presence of one another.

When they arrived at Lamb’s apartment, Jamie was so tired, he didn’t even want to brush his teeth, let alone do any of his usual nightly routines. However, he had spent the morning sweating in a polyester Santa suit over his clothes, and although he took it off shortly after his surprise arrival, he felt in need of a shower. Claire showed him where the bathroom was and made sure he had everything he needed, and got herself ready for bed.

Jamie showered quickly, not bothering to wash his hair, and only cleaning the parts of his body where any stench would be most concentrated, figuring the water would take care of the rest. A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, ready to collapse into bed, but not before embracing his sorcha. He scooped her into his embrace and she buried her face in his bare, firm chest, warm from the shower. He smelled clean, and fresh and most of like Jamie. “I’m so happy you’re with me, Jamie. You have no idea how much it means to me that you’re here.” the emotions of the day hit her again and her voice caught at the end of her sentence as tears filled her eyes once again. Jamie kissed her forehead softly, down to her nose, and landed on her lips, giving her the firm, passionate kiss they’d both been longing for all day--and for months before that.

“Mo cridhe.” Jamie breathed when they separated. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you. I’ll no’ leave you alone when ya need me.”

“Oh Jamie” Claire was still crying, “I’ve been so worried. I’ve been trying to stay strong for Lamb, but I feel like this won’t go back to normal--if there ever was a normal with him. I’m scared he’s going to get worse, or--” her sentence dissolved into a fit of sobs, which she tried to stifle on Jamie’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to stay strong when you’re with me. I’ll be here to help you shoulder the burden. I’ll be here to soak up your tears. There’s two of us now, Claire.” He pressed a kiss into her curls. “You can feel your feelings now, mo cridhe. Lay your cares on me. Come now, let’s get ya tae bed. I’m no’ sure how much longer I can stand myself.”

Claire fell asleep wrapped safely in Jamie’s embrace, free to be herself fully. Free to be vulnerable she felt safe, she felt loved, she felt comfortable, and most new to her--she felt she had the hope and strength that she could carry on, no matter what was to come. She slept better than she had in weeks, secure in the embrace of her eternal love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading!!  
> By the way, the Ingrid Michaelson song Jo mentions is hauntingly beautiful and you should listen to it.  
> Also, I hope you liked Jamie's surprise. This was going to be a lot more angsty of a chapter but Jamie refused to let Claire suffer and had other plans.   
> I know this was full of a lot of emotional ups and downs, and hopefully we can all find some comfort in the fact that just because Christmas/the holidays may look different for a lot of us this year, it can still be special, and there's still light, joy, love, hope, and peace to be found in the midst of the darkness.


End file.
